


Carbohydrates Kill!

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Blow Jobs, Character Bashing, Character Death, Cock & Ball Torture, Crack Treated Seriously, Cunnilingus, Dark Crack, Dark Harry Potter, Dark Hermione Granger, Dark Magic, Dark Magic Rituals (Harry Potter), Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dom Hermione Granger, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, Everyone is Dead, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Forced Pregnancy, Graphic Description, Harry Potter is a Horcrux, Horcruxes, Horcruxes are an infectious disease, Multi, Orgy, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Tom Riddle, Potatoes, Protective Nagini (Harry Potter), Rape/Non-con Elements, Ritual Sex, Ron Weasley Bashing, Sex, Smut, So many Toms, Spud - Freeform, Sub Tom Riddle, Torture, Vaginal Sex, so much sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:08:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26781916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: In the final attempt to defeat Lord Voldermort, Hermione surrendered her soul to dark magic and with power coursing through her veins, she was ready to take on the world - throughunconventionalmeans.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle, Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43
Collections: The Crack Collab Hub





	Carbohydrates Kill!

Darkness. All-consuming darkness.

It consumed, warped, twisted, coiled, and overwhelmed. It had a sentience that blurred the edges of right and wrong. It was pervasive, relentless and never gave up. It was everywhere at any time and place. There was no escape. 

"Yes," it purred. "Come to me."

Hermione felt herself swaying, her own magic slipping the tight bonds she usually held.

She felt her own limitations slamming against her carefully constructed walls. Felt her conscious mind rebel against the lack of boundaries and rules. Tears were running down her face as she faced the reality that this, this was as magic was always meant to be, the power she was always destined to be joined with.

With a final shudder, her voice was ripped from her very soul as she screamed in ecstasy.

Confronted with the power she had to accept that the darkness belonged to her, that it came from her as much as it surrounded her.

She could feel it reaching through her veins. Consuming her. She accepted it more readily than she had the last time. Every time felt easier.

As Hermione rose from the cauldron, her power pulsed, filling the area. Why one always had to be naked for these types of rituals was an annoyance. She figured it might not even be necessary, but just misogynistic in origin, but she hadn't dared to divert from the ancient texts. Only a fool would.

Quickly, she robed herself, pocketed her now empty potion vials, and got ready to _apparate_ back to the Order's hiding place. She'd told no one what she was doing. They wouldn't understand, but she'd seen Voldemort duel and she knew what Harry was capable of. That moment had been defining for her. These so-called protectors were prepared to sacrifice Harry. 

She was not.

It had taken her years to roam through the Black library for something useful, but eventually it was there. At a spot she would've sworn she had looked previously. But it didn't matter. She found a way. 

She pulled her wand out when a too familiar voice startled her. 

"Fascinating. Playing with fire, now are we?"

She whirled around, only to be confronted by none other than Severus Snape. Her nostrils flared, pretty certain that he was in on Dumbledore's plan to sacrifice Harry, too.

"What are you doing here?" she snapped, quite annoyed that she would encounter him, especially after that ritual.

The book had warned that the protective wards would drop the moment the ritual finished, and she rued the moment she'd decided not to put up wards of her own sooner.

"Have you read the fine prints at the bottom of the page where you have foolishly gotten the ritual from, or has something slipped your mind,  _ brightest witch of her year _ ?" Snape asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Her eyes narrowed. With a wave of her hand, a book flew into her other hand. With a flick of her finger, the book opened to the page of the ritual before she shoved the book under his nose.

"There are no fine prints," she said, "and there's no invisible ink used on here."

His black eyes skimmed the book, and finally worry appeared in his eyes. "There's a tear at the bottom of the page. That was where the fine print should've been."

_ It was cliché.  _

But she felt someone had just doused her with a bucket of ice-cold water. She felt the unpleasant shiver from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. 

"Brilliant, " she said in a barely contained shrill. 

Snape just gave a long-suffering sigh while shooting her a withering look. 

She matched his look with her disparaging look, after all,  _ two _ can play at this game. "Oh, and you're here to enlighten me on this  _ fine print _ ?" 

"I'm contemplating my decision," Snape said dryly. 

"Yes, well, while you're contemplating, I ought to get back to the Order. They must be wondering where I am." She sniffed and quickly scanned the room for her wand. 

"The book, " Snape started, causing Hermione's body to still, "had a fine print that lists all the potential side effects."

There was a lump in her throat, and she struggled to swallow it down. "And what sort of side effects are we talking about here?"

"Let's just say, if you're lucky, you might get a bout of heartburn after eating a particularly spicy meal, " he strolled around her room and picked up a dusty, empty potion vial.

"And if I'm not lucky?" She asked, her voice sounding unfamiliar and weak. 

He placed the dirty vial back on the table, "You may start to see unpleasant things."

"What unpleasant things?"

"It-"

"Do I just see them, like a hallucination, or are they real unpleasant things?"

Like she could live with an angry eyes Mr. Potato Head, which always frightened her as a child, because she would know it wasn't real, but if it were Voldemort, oh please no. She couldn't lose her marbles not knowing what was real and what not. She paced to and from.

"Restless pacing is also on the list," Snape deadpanned, stopping her in her tracks.

Hermione breathed in deeply, contemplating murder. Surely enough she could get away with it now. The source of her aggravation always sneaked around without informing anyone what he was up to. Surely someone should stop him from playing both sides to his advantage. Surely, she could do that right now? Nobody would be the wiser. Dumbledore would blame Voldemort and Voldemort would blame Dumbledore if Snape turned up dead. She glared at him. 

"If you're done, I was attempting to explain to your insignificant mind, that said text doesn't specify if the unpleasant things are real or not. I suppose you learned nothing in your sixth year when Potter stole my book and you kept insisting on using the approved text. Such a shame."

He snorted.

"Brightest witch, more witch who can read but never between the li-" 

The flash of green enveloped him, a flash of surprise frozen on his face forever as he dropped to the floor.  _ Stone dead. _

Hermione stood motionless, wand limp in her hand as she looked at the lifeless prone body before her. A sense of elation flooded her entire body, making it tremble as the darkness flooded through her veins. A dark smile graced her features. Licking her lips, she wandered closer and crouched down.

"You always did underestimate me,  _ professor _ ," Hermione said as she brushed a lock of hair out of his face.

His dark eyes peered up at her, cold and empty. Just like his soul.

Hermione stood and began wandering around her, inspecting the different shelves, picking up random vials. Approaching the large cauldron, she lit a fire beneath it. Hermione added the vials to the cauldron, smirking as they began interacting chaotically together. Thick plumes of acrid yellow smoke filled the room.

Coughing, Hermione added the most volatile ingredient last before she gripped her wand tightly in her hand, Apparating away, as the toxic fumes filled the small room.

Score **1** for Hermione and greasy Git **0**.

Now to find those  _ footnotes _ .

To say she searched was the understatement of the year. She turned the library upside down. Ron had already made several mocking remarks about it, but she didn't care. He had no idea what she was dealing with.

Sure, she'd had strange dreams before, but never this vivid and never ever had she fucked Voldemort in them before this. It had to be related to her rituals, which by the way she still needed to complete, and she lost her secure location thanks to her former professor. She knew leaving it halfway done would be equally detrimental, so it really wasn't an option.

But where to go?

And what if those dreams got worse?

They almost seemed real.

Every time she woke she could still feel his hands and lips on her.

She shivered.  _ Ewww... _

Never would she ever.

A nice hot shower was in order, Hermione decided after another fruitless search. Surely it had to be here somewhere. Or was it somewhere else? Thankfully, the house was quiet, enabling Hermione to enjoy the hot spray on her skin. Rinsing her hair thoroughly, being careful to not tangle her curls into knots. Turning off the tap, she stepped out into the steam-filled room. Grabbing a fresh towel, she wrapped it around herself before approaching the sink. Raising her hand, she wiped away the condensation.

A pair of dark red eyes peered back at her, making Hermione scream. Grabbing the closest thing she could, she hurled it at the mirror shattering it.

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE, ARE YOU OKAY? WHAT'S GOING ON?" Harry yelled through the door as he banged heavily with his fist.

Hermione trembled, arms wrapped around herself. Slowly, she raised her head expecting to be greeted with the same red eyes, but there was nothing. Except her own reflection. She looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights. Young and vulnerable. Biting her lip, Hermione straightened her shoulders and glared at herself until the scared little girl disappeared. 

"I'm fine, Harry. I'll be out in a minute," Hermione replied calmly as she picked up her wand, repairing the mirror with one fluid movement.

Opening the bathroom door, she brushed past Harry, who looked panicked and shaking, a slight shine of sweat beading on his forehead.

"You screamed, Hermione. I thought Death Eaters had broken in," Harry explained, frowning as she walked away from him.

Hermione stopped and looked at him over her shoulder. "There was a spider. That's all. Harry, you do have the most overactive imagination of anyone I have ever met. Besides, if you were that eager to join me in the shower, you should have said."

The deep blush on Harry's face made her chuckle in amusement before she entered her bedroom, shutting the door securely behind her.

The next full moon was in three days. She needed to finish the ritual then or face the consequences. That meant she had three days to find a copy of the book and the footnotes.

As well as the rare ingredients for the ritual. But without Snape, they would be hard to find.

She was still surprised that no one had realized he was dead yet. Everyone in the Order thought Voldemort had him on some secret mission. She wondered what Voldemort thought.

"I know you killed him", a whisper came from behind her.

Hermione jumped, her heart racing as she looked around.

No one was there.

She double checked her bedroom door, confirming it was sealed shut, and enhanced its security with her own self-made wards. 

And she paced. She paced so much if she had been paying attention she would have noticed the soot her angry pacing left behind. It wasn’t until her lack of information and time finally got under her skin she let an almighty roar until she literally felt like she was outgrowing her skin. 

She looked around her room startled and realized her towel was on the ground forgotten, there were slight singe marks on the bedding, and she was huge. 

As she watched everything in hues of reds and oranges, she realized something was not quite right. When she attempted to move however, she realized she did not have 2 legs but 4, and as she shifted, her wings- WINGS???- got caught on the ceiling. 

Merlin and Morgana's left crusty ball sack -  _ SHE WAS A BLIMEY DRAGON! _

And not even an impressive, run for your life, dragon, but a tiny, aww look at the cutie trying to scare me, dragon. In fury, she rose, realized she was flying and plummeted to the floor, scared.

By Godric, she was a dragon and still afraid of heights!

What else would be done to her?

She was so angry, so so so angry. That when the door opened, she turned and screamed.

A burst of flame left her mouth, setting fire to Ron's clothes.

"Blimey! What the hell!? HELP!" he yelled, swatting at his robes.

Shocked, Hermione stared. 

"Use your wand," she wanted to say but more fire came from her mouth instead, setting the floor ablaze. 

_ At the dragon stage already? Burn them all, dear. Use that anger. _

"Fuck off, Voldemort! You're not real! You're not here. You can't be here! You're in my head! You're a hallucination!"

His laughter infuriated her even more. There wasn't a single piece of furniture not burning by the time he was done. 

"Aguamenti!" she heard Harry shout. 

More footsteps sounded on the stairs. 

"Dra-dragon, Charlie," Ron said, pointing trembling at her. 

Wait. No, no, no. 

She couldn't be caught. 

Terrified, she raised her wings and made for the window. Just in a nick of time, as she felt Charlie's dragon capturing charm barely graze her tail. 

Where was she to go now?

As she flew off, she did her best not to look downwards, knowing that the only way she could escape was by flying while she was in this form.

Could she even turn back to human form? 

For a moment, she panicked, but she quickly calmed herself down. It was far too dangerous flying while panicking and fighting against her fear of heights.

Therefore, she concentrated on far more important matters like... why was she suddenly seeing and hearing Voldemort everywhere.

_ ”Use that brilliant mind of yours, dear. It’s not that difficult to figure out.” _

And there it was again! In her sudden spike of anger, a flame flared out of her mouth again.

A loud squawk followed and she blinked as she saw a tarred object fall to the ground beneath her. 

_ Was that a- _

Her question was answered as she noticed several white peacocks flying towards her. Panicking, she screamed, but instead, burned them into black lumps that dropped to the grounds again.

_ Excellent work, Miss Granger. Even before you swear your loyalty to me, you are already assisting me in eliminating pointless nuisances. _

The words confused her, and suddenly, she realized where she was flying over - Malfoy Manor.

As the speck of Manor flew into starker contrast against the backdrop of Wiltshire, she contemplated her options as she ignored the peacock fire graveyard below her.

She knew the book she needed to finish this and stabilize herself once again was in that home. She needed it for now. Perhaps that was the same reason Riddle kept it around.

_ Yes. You already see where my decisions stem from. I cannot wait to see what you do next. _

"STOP IT!" she screamed into the sky realizing too late that a fire-breathing dragon, over a vastly muggle area whose economy relied heavily on crops, would cause many concerns.

Making a decision she was certain  _ he _ wanted all along but she just couldn't be arsed to care, she circled down towards the top of the Manor. Thankful now for her small size, she flew into the main shoot of the largest fireplace exit and followed it down silently for sometime.

As she got closer to the fireplace, she heard low murmurings and the deep baritone of the man who had been plaguing her thoughts since her ritual. 

_ Surprise me, Ms. Granger. Let these minions see what I see in that powerful mind of yours. _

"I have zero desires to appeal to you, snake man!" she roared, dashing out of the fireplace and screaming into his face. She almost screamed again when she saw her flames, which roasted full grown albino peacocks, barely left behind a singe on his deplorable black robes. 

In her anger, she still hadn't realized that open mouthed dragon retorts equaled fire all over, she let the fire blaze out of her inadvertently lighting Lucius Malfoy's hair on fire.

"Alas, Ms. Granger, it seems you missed half of Bella's form." He waved to his left where Bella was desperately both trying to kiss his hem and put out the flames melting her skin off. 

"Merlin!" Hermione started laughing, entering hysteria when she realized even her laughs in this form burned.

She settled unconsciously onto Riddle's lap on his throne as they watched Bellatrix turn to ash.

"So give me the book," she ordered, spewing fire into the curtains.

"What makes you think I have it and am willing to share?"

"You lured me here."

A dresser burst into flames. 

"That I did. Maybe I just want a pet dragon? Though you are a bit on the small side."

Furious, Hermione blew straight into his face. The flames licked him but only the chandelier on the ceiling turned to crisp. 

"Bit of a temper you have there."

"Look who's talking."

The door went up in flames and behind it a gigantic snake lifted its head in surprise. Immediately, Voldemort hissed something at it in alarm. 

That snake is important to him, Hermione realized. 

She flew up, looked at him briefly and then turned towards the snake. 

"Stop."

Before Hermione could barbecue the snake, footfalls could be heard, rushing towards the room. The door was thrown open as a familiar blond came into view. 

“Father! Someone burned all of our peacocks and our manor is on...fi...re.....” He blinked once before blurting out, “What in Merlin’s name happened to your hair?”

So stunned he was that he didn’t even notice that Voldemort was in the room as well.

“Very observant, young Malfoy. Your father’s hair is very obviously burnt off,” Voldemort said. 

Draco’s face turned pale as he stammered a “My Lord.”

Hermione narrowed in on the blond, her small wings beating frantically. Taking a deep breath, she was just about to roast the bigot when she hit the floor with a thud. Gone were the scales and in its place was her human form.

"Gr-Granger? What are you doing here?" Draco asked in shock, looking to his father for explanation.

Hermione turned angry eyes on Voldemort who gave a cold smile, twiddling his wand between his long, pale fingers.

"He lured me here!" Hermione snarled as she whipped out her wand as she scrambled to her feet. 

Dashing towards the Dark Lord, murder in her eyes, the killing curse on her lips, she was suddenly met back a strong barrier of wind, blowing her backwards, slowly stopping her from getting anywhere near where he stood near the ornate fireplace.

Realizing she wasn't going to get very far, Hermione turned on her heel, grabbing Draco by the sleeve of his impeccably tailored robes, and dragged him from the ballroom.

"Where's your library?" Hermione demanded bluntly as her captive attempted to wrench himself free from her grasp.

"I'm not going to tell you anything Mudblood," Draco hissed, eyes cold yet holding the slightest hint of curiosity. He'd never heard of a Mudblood being able to get past the wards before. Father didn't allow the riffraff to parade through the ancient halls of the Manor.

"If you don't tell me where your library is in the next thirty seconds, I am going to make sure you're singing soprano. Permanently!" Hermione threatened with a growl. 

She was so close. She could practically feel the book's power guiding her in her quest. She only had three more days to complete the ritual. If not, then the whole world was going to burn.

Draco raised a single pale eyebrow and assessed her. Whatever he saw, combined with the threat to his manhood, seemed to persuade him to guide her. As they were walking, Hermione took in the destruction she had caused. Hollowed out rooms, charred corridors, the smell of burned flesh and roasted bird filling her nostrils. She flinched inwardly at that. 

The closer they got to the library, the more she forgot to regret her actions. The darkness of the book was calling to her, making her blood sing.

She needed it. She needed it so badly.

When Draco stopped and opened the door, all the books made her heart skip a beat. Then she saw the fire.

A fire she caused. She didn't even know how it had reached this far. She had assumed all she destroyed were some curtains and a sycophant. She had to research this, but first she had books to save.

She swirled her wand above her head and then twisted it twice towards the chamber. A burst of CO2 filled the room. She slammed the door shut.

"Granger, I thought you - "

"Shut up and watch."

After a minute she opened the door and stepped in, dragging Draco at wand point with her. She could feel the book. Third row on her left. As she turned the corner, pushing Draco ahead she stopped in her tracks.

There stood Voldemort, holding what clearly was the book she needed in his hands. 

Smiling at her, he dragged a long spidery finger over its spine.

"I suppose now you will be a good girl and listen."

Hermione placed her wand into Draco 's neck.

"I'll kill him."

Voldemort shrugged. "Do it."

Damn, where was that snake? She needed something he cared about.

"Leave us, Draco," Voldemort said, "I have something important to discuss with Miss Granger that isn't suitable for your ears."

Draco tried to move, but Hermione held him tighter. She wasn't about to lose her human shield. 

"Don't even think about it," she hissed. "I will kill you."

A flash of green blinded her eyesight and Draco crashed into her. She dropped to the floor with his dead body in her arms. Horrified, Hermione looked up. 

"I don't need him. You, however, I do. So stop being a fool and start using that brain of yours, Miss Granger. I got something you need and you have something I want."

"Me, the fool? Revive and stun him," she demanded. "You cannot afford a Malfoy coup right now. Women scorned and all that; I just burned her sister to a crisp!" 

She thought he rolled his eyes as he shifted his magic around Malfoy, his lungs expand naturally once more, and Hermione threw him out of his library, alive but unconscious, before barricading the two of them in.

Turning back she felt her own magic seeping around the room, layering over his own, both stifling and liberating her desires. With a coy smile, realizing she was still nude since she vividly saw her towel laying on the ground during her Dragon transformation, she sauntered to Riddle slowly.

"Don't lie to me Riddle. Just like you can feel me, I can feel you. You don't want something I have, you need it, as much as I need that book in your hands."

She circled around him, opposite the magic swirling around the both of them, "You also know you need me to finish that ritual, this draw you feel to me, this is no ordinary pull and you know that." 

She had barely a second to look him in his raging red eyes before he had her bare back slammed against the stacks of books behind her. She grasped the shelf above her head, as his hands roamed up her back and arse, legs wrapping around his suddenly nude form. 

"I will be consummating this with you. You must consent for this to work, witch, so what do you need," he demanded against her collarbone. He trailed his fingers down her front and into her quivering lips, "It seems, however, that your dripping quim wants me to take you and join our souls for eternity."

"Don't you dare fucking stop, you wretched creature," she growled, biting his neck hard and roaring in horror and slight delight as he entered her.

Wandlessly, working hard to separate the sensations he was causing with her rational mind, she levitated the book behind him, allowed her magic to flip to the page she needed, and read as if her life depended on it as he pummeled into her.

She tried to focus on the words, but the words remained illegible as it danced to the beat of his thrusts. She met him thrust for thrust, and she could feel his sharp pants against her collar bone. 

Her hands crept up to his head, and if he had hair, she would’ve mussed it up by now. 

Suddenly, her womb felt empty as he pulled away from her. He dropped her to the floor and she landed on all fours. How dare he  _ manhandle _ her like this? She was going to –

A low throaty moan erupted from her chest. He entered her in one swift motion and started the rhythmic pumping once more. One hand curled around her hip and the other sank into her hair before he pulled. Her heart thrummed in both excitement and pain, and her hands curled into tight fists as he continued to fuck her with abandon. 

_ The book _ , a small voice whispered inside her head. She tried to look for the opened book, but he snapped his hip against her and dug in deep with his prick. She felt his entire length throb, and she moaned, encouraging him to do it again. 

_ Thebookthebookthebook _ , her mind chanted, but her body sang a different tune that overrode her priority. Her vision delightfully swam in colors and light, and as her eyes lazily scanned for the book, she had to do a double take as she was certain there was a golden spud wedged between two nondescript books on the shelf.

Why would anyone hide a spud there and golden no less? Knowing Riddle's crow-like fascination for shiny objects, she figured it had to be important, so she had to nick it, but where could she hide it without having any clothes with her?

However, her wandering mind was brought back into sharp focus as he dipped his hand down around her hips, fingers ghosting over her throbbing nub and rubbing slowly. In direct contrast of the fast slaps of his hips and balls against her pulsing core. 

She inched her hand as inconspicuously as possible to the side, wandlessly moving both the golden spud and the book back under her nose as she let out a deep keen as he picked up the onslaught of her body. 

She stared directly at the book, thanking Merlin and Morgana for her photographic memory so she could go back later, preferably immediately post coitus, to understand what she had to do to finish this ritual.

For now though, she wrapped her hands firmly around the golden spud, letting out an unearthly scream as she came hard around his cock, separately wondering if it was the spud or the cock that threw her over the edge. 

"You’re mine. Mine to command, mine to control." he stated firmly, surprising her with his steady voice as his breath puffed out.

Finally zero-ing in on the passage open in front of her a feral grin graces her lips as she turned her head to look at him as he let out a long breath, releasing into her, "Seed shared with me, sweat lain on mine, together we are, together are mine. Like bodies are shared, this night of the moon, after my transformation, your soul combines with mine too. May our halves be a whole, may the whole ever win. For I am yours, but you are mine just the same."

She watched his eyes open wide as he realized she completed the incantation necessary to put them on even keel, to force him to be as much hers as she was his. His power might still be decades more advanced than hers, but magic recognized them as equals, and she had just highlighted that event with the ending of the very ritual she had started weeks before.

Her body hummed with post-coital euphoria and the magic pouring inside her from completing the ritual. She felt almost delirious from the power now coursing through her vein. She stood up, back straight, and eyes forward. She clutched the golden spud in her hand and felt a connection with it. It was strange, she could  _ feel _ dark magic radiating off of this golden spud. But what was even more peculiar was the fact that the magic in this golden spud felt familiar to her…almost like coming home. She closed her eyes, letting the tendrils of her magic gently probe this artifact.

Her eyes shot open and stared at his red eyes now laced with fury and a promise to cause pain. 

“Riddle…” she began, and she closed her hands around the golden spud and hugged it close to her chest. 

“Where did you find that?” he hissed; his member swayed with each step he took towards her. 

“It was just there,” she pointed at the bookshelf.

His lip twitched, “You would think,” he clasped his hand over hers, “that I would learn to not trust the Malfoys after the incident with my diary.”

She knew that the ritual was causing her to feel this sense of camaraderie and  _ care _ for a despicable man – no – a monster like Riddle. So she was not surprised when her voice wavered when she asked, “How many times are you going to butcher your soul?”

“As many times as it takes to assure my immortality,” his tone came out clipped and clinical. 

She supposed the next question to ask was: why the hell would he put his precious sliver of a soul in a god damn spud?

That question, however, seemed to hit a nerve, because he stepped forward, snatched the potato from her hand and snapped, "None of your business, Hermione Granger, I strongly suggest you stop this line of inquiry."

With a twist of his hand, the golden spud vanished.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Fine. Keep being an idiot, it's not like I care." She flicked her wrist to make her wand appear and dressed herself. "I have a ritual to complete."

Voldemort gestured around and with a smirk said, "I'm sure Lucius would be more than willing to offer up one of his many chambers for you."

"Oh yeah, he'd be positively delighted."

"You don't have the luxury of denying this generous offer, dear. You burned your somewhat amateurishly protected location and that last step will draw the attention of any wizard or witch with some semblance of power, let alone Albus Dumbledore."

"I know, but I'm not staying here with you for that part."

Voldemort's otherwise blank expression contorted briefly.

"Oh yeah, I know what being in your vicinity during that ritual would do. I just read it, remember. No, thanks, but no. I know a better place. See you around," she paused and then tauntingly added, "dear."

With use of their combined magic, she _disapparated_ straight through the wards, spud secretly thrumming in her pocket.

"Fine," Voldemort huffed. "Your funeral."

It was after she _disapparated_ that Voldemort suddenly felt something amiss. It didn't take too long for him to realize that the woman had nicked his golden potato. Baring his teeth in anger, he waved a hand through the air, summoning his magic to detect where she was. Had his Horcrux been nicked by someone else, it would've been much harder for him to retrieve it. But since their magic was now connected, it would make Summoning what had his magical imprint back to him much more easy.

Hermione felt a tug in her pocket, and she just managed to grab onto the potato before it flew away.

"Oh no you don't!" she growled as she grabbed onto the spud with all her might. 

Her mind quickly went over her options. He was clearly using their combined magic to Summon the stupid Horcrux back and she would be damned if she allowed him to do so. She needed her wand.

The potato flew out of her hands as she reached for her wand, but she quickly waved her hand, attempting to slow the potato down so that it wouldn't fly back to its rightful owner.

* * *

Somewhere inside the burnt down Malfoy Manor, a blond stirred awake. He blinked a couple of times as he sat there dumbly in a pile of soot with streaks of ashes down his face and dirt in his hair. He had no recollection of what happened. To be quite honest, he didn't even quite remember who he was.

He did remember he was a wizard though. And he knew he was quite hungry right now though.

Suddenly, a golden potato fell from the skies and onto his lap.

Draco was surprised that the potato was hot in his hands. His stomach rumbled with hunger. Picking the potato up he bit into the crispy spud. The steam escaping burnt his tongue but he didn't seem to notice as he quickly consumed. A strange icy sensation lined his stomach making him double over in pain.

Crying out, he crawled away from the sooty floor towards the bannister. Grasping it, he pulled himself to his feet with a groan before he slowly made his way towards his bedroom. His only sanctuary in this fucked up place he was supposed to call a home.

Crashing through his bedroom door, he barely made it inside before he tripped over the ornate rug in his room and crashed to the ground with a heavy thud, hitting his head on the corner of his desk rendering him unconscious.

* * *

Lord Voldemort was on the prowl. He knew Granger didn't have his precious Horcrux from the frustration he felt, but he didn't have it either, which was just ... unacceptable.

It had to be close by. In this house, to be more precise. He knew Granger's powers were no match to his. Yet why it hadn't landed in his hand as it should've he didn't want to contemplate on. 

His locator charm turned bright red. Young Malfoy's bedroom. Now why it had landed there was something he really, really didn't want to give a second thought.

However when he crossed the door's threshold, he knew he would have to.

The damn thing was inside the insipid boy.

He tapped his wand against his leg, considering his options. He could get it out, but where was the fun in that? A vicious smile spread on his snake-like features. 

No, no, the boy had consumed him, and now, it was his turn to consume the boy. Eventually nothing of Draco would remain and only he, Tom Marvolo Riddle, would rise. The power this resurrection would grant him...

The thought was so satisfactory that he nearly moaned. Also watching Lucius and Narcissa while their heir slowly changed in front of their eyes was the most delicious punishment he could think of for all their failures to please their lord. 

Calmly he walked away, leaving Draco to deal with his fate.

* * *

Fuck’s sake. She'd just left Malfoy Manor, and now if she wanted that potato back she'd need to return. And she still needed to complete the ritual.

While the ritual she'd started weeks ago to help her body acclimate to a sudden surge of dark magic and the equality she gained to Voldemort due to it had been completed, upon finishing the final ultimate ritual she should have full control over the power within her. That meant that she still needed to return to Malfoy Manor. 

Then again... she really should check the stupid book again. When she'd started the ritual, she hadn't thought of becoming equals to Voldemort the way she had, so she needed to make sure the conditions were still the same. She, after all, was Hermione Granger and knew how to double check what she'd read before, unlike some Dark Lord she knew.

With a wave of her wand, she Disillusioned herself before _apparating_ back to her bedroom. Thankfully, the book was nearly indestructible and she'd thought of making it invisible to everyone beforehand. To be honest, she wasn't certain how "invisible" it would be to Dumbledore, but at least it was better than nothing.

Flipping through pages amongst the ruins that had been her bedroom, she finally found the ritual. Thankfully, there appeared to be no snags in her plan.

However, before she could _disapparate_ on the spot, a familiar voice spoke up.

"I do hope you understand what you are getting yourself into, Miss Granger."

Decidedly, she snapped the book shut and turned around.

"And what is that, Professor?" she said, sounding not quite as reverently as she had always done before.

"Dark magic always comes at a price."

"I'm aware of the costs, but why do you care? Am I not just another child to sacrifice in your war?"

Dumbledore flinched like she had slapped him across the face.

"You're not a child anymore, Miss Granger. Neither one of you is."

"Now," she snapped. "Now we aren't children anymore, not like we ever had the chance to be one. You had us fighting Lord Voldemort when we were just twelve years old. You plan to sacrifice Harry. You always had. What the fuck is wrong with you? What the fuck is wrong with any of these Order adults who were supposed to protect us?"

"Miss Granger, I understand your anger, but there are things going on you have no knowledge of."

"Of course there are! That's how Sirius got killed so why change? Why stop keeping secrets when it's so damn successful for you?"

"I honestly-"

Hermione snorted. "Honestly? You dare use that word around me?"

"Miss Granger, my faults are my own, don't make them your undoing. I will stop you."

She took a deep breath.

"Like you said, I'm an adult, Professor, and I'm way past listening, being intimidated or impressed by the likes of you."

With a crack, she was gone. That ritual had to happen now and it had to happen fast, before Albus Dumbledore showed up to kill her.

As she landed back in the library of Malfoy Manor she didn't notice the curious onlookers as she allowed her magic to direct her to the perfect room. 

She was unsurprised when it led her outside to a heavy crop of trees surrounding a smaller circle. The moment she crossed into the ritual space, all else ceased to matter. It was time.

A smooth voice broke her concentration

“I see you took my advice.”

Hermione began to grit her teeth. Did the man ever shut up?

She swirled her wand above her head and erected the human-sized cauldron she needed. Then turned around and noticed he'd sat down on a broken down tree trunk contraption, made himself mighty comfortable with some cushions, too.

Hell no.

"You're not staying."

He raised a non existing eyebrow. "Are you kicking me from my own property?

"Is your last name suddenly Malfoy?"

"I'm sure they'd agree I have more standing here than you."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that if I were you."

His high-pitched laugh filled the area.

"Alright, Miss Granger," he rose from his improvised throne, "just this once, I'll grant you your privacy. Just be aware that the conclusion of this ritual will result in a temporary drop of all the wards, including the ancient ones, this place has to offer. Albus will get in before they're back up. Be ready."

He walked away, then stopped and looked over his shoulder.

"Unless you prefer I stay for your protection."

The dead peacock being hurled at his head was answer enough. 

"Good luck then, Miss Granger. I trust when you're done I can celebrate the death of Albus Dumbledore."

She had no idea if Dumbledore actually knew where she'd gone, but she wouldn't be foolish enough to not take Voldemort's advice. As it was, she was pretty certain that between her and Dumbledore, he would rather have her kept alive.

Waving her wand over her head, she chanted in a language that was long dead. At the right intervals, she would flick her wand towards the cauldron, and a bottle of potion would appear above said cauldron, pouring in its contents. This went on for a good thirty minutes before all the required ingredients were in. 

At that moment, a dark swirl of cloud appeared above where she was standing, and with a grim look, she understood why the book mentioned that people would notice.

The dark thundercloud above her head was pretty much a dead giveaway of her coordinates, and one would be living under a rock to not notice it. Thankfully, the wards wouldn't drop until after the ritual was finished, and the book hadn't said there would be any setbacks in her power. 

The cloud continued to grow as she chanted, and the winds began to pick up, making it nearly difficult to keep her eyes open, but she kept her gaze on the cauldron. 

A low growl of thunder rent the air, and lightning struck on the trees surrounding her, lighting them on fire. It was only when the first raindrop landed on her face that she realized how warm her body was. She had no idea if it were because of the dark power swirling inside her or because of the amount of energy she was placing into the ritual, but the coolness the raindrop delivered to her skin was much appreciated.

The rain picked up in strength, mainly concentrating on the cauldron. The trees continued to burn, though she didn't pay any attention to them. As quickly as it started, the rain stopped, precisely when the cauldron was filled a couple of inches beneath the rim.

However, she kept on chanting, and with trepidation, she felt herself lifted into the air as the clothes melted away from her body.

It wasn't the first time she'd flown that night, and she would be lying if she said she wasn't pissed.

Nonetheless, before she could think much about it, she was dropped rather unceremoniously into the cauldron. 

The lack of air strangely enough didn't suffocate her, and keeping what the text said in mind, she continued chanting, allowing the potion to swirl around her. She supposed the fire under the cauldron had started on its own when she felt warmth traveling from the bottom upwards.

_ Well, if the ritual fails, the Malfoys can enjoy a nice meal of Mudblood stew.  _

She had no idea how long it took, but the water never turned hot enough to burn her. Suddenly, she felt as if the whole world shook around her. What she didn't know was that at that moment, a massive strike of lightning had struck down on the cauldron, breaking it into pieces and shredding the ancient wards of Malfoy Manor away.

The ritual was completed.

The moment the wards crashed down, the crack of someone a _pparating_ into the clearing reached Hermione's ears. Calling her wand to her hand, she got ready. Seriously. What was it with dark lords and interfering headmasters that they couldn't take a hint.

She dove out of the way of the green bolt of lightning erupting van Albus Dumbledore's wand.

Oh, so now he recalled how to take out an opponent!

A second curse was underway before she could get to her feet and she felt the hot ashes singe her naked body as she rolled and rolled trying to avoid getting hit.

This was ridiculous. She couldn't even get a curse in. He was too bloody fast. And he was aiming to kill.

Typical.

Suddenly a snake of fire burst through, crashing into Dumbledore's curse and swerving towards him, mouth wide open.

Dumbledore chanted at it and the snake turned phoenix, but by now, Hermione had time to scramble to her feet and send a curse of her own. It tore through the _fiendfyre_ and took the unaware Dumbledore by surprise. It blasted him through the air, blood splattering everywhere as a large gash appeared in his chest. He crashed to the ground, waving his wand at the wound that was growing until it stopped and started knitting back together.

_ Oh no, you don't. _

Her eyes fell on his blackened hand, and she smiled. There was her answer. The Slicing Hex wasn't even considered dark or forbidden but it did its job marvelously. His hand tumbled to the ground while he screamed in agony, but her focus was on the part still attached to his body, the open connection she now had created to the rot in his body. Another curse flew her way, but she diverted it back to him and then chanted. The tip of her wand turned black. A dark mist erupted, swirling towards a wide-eyed Dumbledore. He put up a Shield Charm, but the wand in his hand had begun to tremble and struggle. Hermione frowned at that. It was like his wand didn't want to obey him anymore, but that was an insane thought, wasn't it? Wands didn't think.

The dark mist went straight for the rot in the open to the air blood vessels. The rot quickly began to spread in the remainder of his arm and it was going faster and faster.

She easily sidestepped another Killing Curse he sent her way. His aim had gotten bad. Really, really bad. And his wand was now shaking so badly as if it had enough. The rot reached his face, ran over his chest, thrust through his other arm. His wand shook loose from his blackening fingers and flew right at her. She caught it.

"Her-Her-Hermione," he stuttered, dropping to the side.

Seeing he was dying and no longer a threat, she walked to the man she had always admired as a child.

"Professor," she said coolly, towering above him.

"The-there," a staggered breath, "There is a way out."

"Sorry?" she said, not understanding.

"Ge-Gellert can explain."

She squatted down. "Explain what?"

"How to-"

A deep gurgle reached her ears, his eyes turned blank, and Albus Dumbledore moved no more. 

Hermione sighed. Even on his deathbed, the old wizard kept his secrets, probably never realizing he wouldn't have the time to divulge them all. 

She clutched to the wand in her hand. It felt joyful holding it. Its power coursing through her veins. She hadn't even noticed she'd dropped her own as she walked away, not caring about her lack of clothes. Her skin radiated power despite being blackened from ashes. She was on top of the world.

For a moment, she understood what it meant to be “drunk off the power.” She was positively drenched in it. She shivered, not because of her lack of clothes, but the magical energy coursing hot in her veins. She brought her hand to her forehead, smearing ash and sweat off her face. Her lips trembled, and her stomach bowed. 

She was stifling a euphoric roar of laughter. 

Power. 

Power beyond power. 

She looked over to Lord Voldemort, she cocked her head to the side. Perhaps she, too, also required a new name. A name that can spear the hot knife of fear to the heart of the Wizarding world at large. 

A name that was greater than Lord Voldemort. 

She sauntered towards Voldemort, who had not moved from the spot since she had defeated Dumbledore. She assessed his figure and noticed he was sporting a prominent bulge. Her lips curled into a sneer. She liked this type of power too. 

She was before him, and his spider-like fingers lightly caressed up her arm until he cradled her neck, just below her steady pulse. 

“You did well,” he whispered. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

She raised a brow at that condescending remark. 

“We have finally defeated the only wizard that had any potential to stop me,” he let out a cruel jaunty laugh, and his ruby eyes twinkled that oddly reminded her of Dumbledore. Still, it was far more cynical than whimsical.

She felt angry. Why did she feel angry? She killed Dumbledore, and she had an unbeatable wand. So, why did her heart feel like it was about to burst? Why was her chest aching? Was it the side effects of the ritual, she pondered. Severus had mentioned heart-burn to be one of the side effects. 

“Let me make this clear.” Hermione took a step away from him, and his hand fell back next to his side. He had an amused smirk, and idly, she wondered what Tom Riddle would think if he saw his former self now. “I defeated Dumbledore.” Her skin tingled when his smirk pulled downwards. “I have the unbeatable wand.” Her heart was racing, and her body sung with pleasure when he gritted his teeth in a poor attempt to stave off his rising anger. “I-” She stepped closer to him, closer still, until her body was pressed right up against him; she looked up to see him carefully wear a blank mask. Her arms circled around his neck, and she pulled, pulled until he bent his neck, so her lips were just a hairbreadth from his ear. “- am stronger than you.” 

Her breath hitched when he ripped himself away from her grasp. His slit nose flared as he narrowed his eyes. He pulled out his bone-white wand and aimed just between her eyes. “But I am immortal, witch-“

“Ah – ah – ah,” she wagged her fingers before him. “You have three more Horcruxes left. That blasted spud, Harry, and your snake.” She slapped his wand away from her face, “I can kill you.” She rested her hand against his arm. Their role reversed, and she mockingly trailed her hand up to his arm and settled just under his pulse. “But I won’t if you submit to me.”

He snorted.

“Ah, Lord Voldemort submits to no one. Is that it?” she smiled. With a wave of her hand, his wand flew into her grasp. She giggled, “Marvelous! I was never able to do this before!” She hummed, wondering if she can better grasp her dragon form. 

She took a couple steps back and threw his wand over her shoulder. She didn’t miss the minute flinch from his right fingers. 

She held the Elder Wand before her, and she took in a deep breath. She didn’t want to completely transform into her dragon form. She wanted to be lighter, smaller, and lithe. She wanted the strength of a dragon but still retain her opposable thumbs. 

She felt a wash of cool magic ripple down her body. She opened her eyes and looked down at her hand. Her hand was covered in scales, and her nail was longer, thicker, and sharper. But, she could still hold the wand with just the pad of her fingers. 

“How do I look?” she asked. She waved her hand, nonchalantly towards him, and his robes disappeared. “Look at us, two monsters fucking.” With another flourish of her wand, thick ropes erupted from her wand.

“What are you doing?” his voice was high, and he struggled to hide the tinge of fear leaking in his voice.

The rope swirled around him before it wrapped around his arms, his legs, torso and neck. He crashed to his knees as his arms were bound behind his back, and his thighs spread apart. 

She felt a drip of warm wet heat spilling from her core. She bit down on her lip as she saw his pale prick displayed before her. She tapped the tip of her wand against the bottom of her lip. 

“What’s the purpose of this?” he demanded. “You dare to mock Lord Voldemort?”

“Actually, I quite like you displayed to me like this,” her voice dropped low and husky. She kneeled in front of him and traced the tip of her wand over his neck and around his nipple.

He choked, and his body trembled. She sent small jolts of shock, and judging from his prick, he liked it. 

“What are you doing to me?” his voice bewildered. 

“Why?” Her wand traced up his shaft, and he took a sharp intake of breath. “Don’t you like it?” She asked innocently as she paused her tip on his tip. 

“I was never a fan of being tortured,” his voice barely above a whisper. 

“You think this is torture?” she grabbed the base of his prick and slowly pumped up then down. His head bowed low, and she could just hear the barest hint of whimper coming from his lips. She felt the familiar thrum of power coursing through her veins. 

His prick throbbed in her hand, and she loosened her grasp and stopped moving. In response, he jerked his hips up, and before he could jerk up once again, she let go of him. 

“Beg.”

Lord Voldemort raised an incredulous eyebrow.

''Lord Voldemort does not beg''

''Shall we test that theory?''

Hermione gave a firm stroke of his cock before stopping again.

He let out a garbled hiss in Parseltongue as he strained against his bonds.

''Something you'd like to say to me?'' Hermione teased.

If looks could kill, the one Lord Voldemort was aiming at her right now would make a lesser person run.

However, Hermione Jean Granger did not fit that description before and now she never would. There was no one who could defeat her anymore.

She smirked at the wizard tied up before her and unveiled her tail slowly. It curved towards him, stroking his cheek, which sent visible shivers down his spine, and moving until it was fully wrapped around his neck.

"Wha-what are you doing?"

Hermione smiled, her eyes sparking in joy.

"You have to ask, my pet?" She pumped his cock right at those words, erupting an angry and heated groan from Voldemort's lips. "Oh, look at how ready and dripping my pet is. You need a release now, don't you?"

She traced her finger over his cock.

A garbled moan left his lips.

"You know what you have to do."

"Never," he snapped.

"Oh, never is such a big word, don't you think?" Her tail started tightening like a noose. "I think you'll find I can be very persuasive, too, Tom."

* * *

He bristled at her blatant use of his childhood name. The bristle turned into a gasp for air and another. His slit for nostrils flared and his eyes widened in what could be perceived as panic, yet his cock stood stiff as an iron pole.

What was that witch doing to him? He wouldn't yield. Ever. 

"You may have Horcruxes, so when this body dies, I will have others to feast upon." She bent forward and licked the tip of his cock. "Such a pretty cock you have, pet, it would be a shame if you die-"

"Pl-please," Voldemort stuttered, barely able to get the words out as the edges of his vision started to blacken.

He'd have to play the long game with this witch.

Her tail loosened, and he gasped for air frantically. Then he gasped because she had impaled herself on his rock-hard cock without warning.

"Time for your reward, my slippery pet," she said, grabbing his head and kissing him deeply while her tail tightened ever so slightly on his neck again and she moved fast and hard on his cock.

His arms and his thighs chafed from the coarse rope. The tip of his toes and fingers were numb. Yet, all he cared about was the witch currently enveloping him, and the tip of her nipples just barely grazing his chest. 

He should hate what the witch was doing to him, what the witch made him do. He begged for no one, and yet with just a couple of strokes of his member, the word please tumbled out of his lips. Instead of feeling the familiar white-hot fury, he felt a different type of heat that burned in his loins. It was almost cathartic, giving up some semblance of control. 

The ropes restricted his movement, but he thrust his prick up, desperate for her to take him up to his hilt. She tightened in response, and he stifled another groan. He shut his eyes, concentrating, trying not to finish quickly. He had a feeling, his mistress would be dis- his eyes shot open. Did he just… refer to this witch as his mistress? 

She slammed her hips back down, and her claws dragged down his back. His back burned, and yet he only thrust into her harder. He would revisit that troubling thought another time when this minx wasn’t riding his prick like an animal.

He parted his lips and took a quick shallow breath. He was going to cu-

Swiftly, she slid off him completely. His member swayed back and forth as it stood painfully red and turgid. He was so close, how dare that bitch stopped now when he was so close. 

“How dare you!” he hissed out. 

That was a mistake. He shouldn’t have reacted like that.

Her giggle started light and dainty before she doubled over and clutched her stomach, no longer stifling a loud, obnoxious laugh. “You-” Again, she let out a peal of laughter, “you should’ve seen your face!”

For the first time in a long while, he felt powerless. His head grew hot, and he couldn’t force himself to glare up to her while she loomed over him. He remained silent.

“Aw,” she cooed and pat his cheek in mock affection, “don’t be like that.” She gave a sweet chaste kiss on his cheek. “You did good, pet, feel how wet I am.” Her claws dug into his scalp, and she shoved his lips right up to her quim. It was dripping with arousal. He took a tentative lick. 

He heard a sharp gasp over him, and that was all the encouragement he needed before he delved in to coax more cream from his witch. He kissed, sucked, and lightly nipped her labia. He shifted his lips up and rolled her engorged clit with his teeth. He was awarded another moan. 

He fought against the restraint around his arms. He wanted to grab her close and press his lips against hers. The chamber echoed with his enthusiastic licks and sucks, and he slurped in the never-ending fountain of cream. 

She pulled away from him much to his displeasure, and his body strained to follow lest he fell flat on his face. 

He looked up, almost excited to see what the witch had planned next.

* * *

She was shaking, startled as instead of feeling the impending fatigue and sluggishness of her almost orgasm and his enthusiastic pleasuring, she was thrumming with magic. 

She had never felt so alive as she did with this willing lord following her quim. 

"So very, very good, pet. You almost made me come." Her tail flicked out between her legs, dragging through her soaken lips, and followed the invisible string down to his throbbing member. She felt it envelope him, giving firm, lazy strokes as she spoke. 

She luxuriated in his half-lidded gaze and parted lips. "So perfect, but I don't quite think you want it yet. You don't seem as eager as you should be for me to allow you to come."

She lowered herself over him once more, not letting him enter her, and reached beyond the cock her tail was pleasuring to his balls, giving them a slight massage before running her fingers around his arse. 

He growled deep below her, head thrown back at the sensations of a teasing hand job and light rimming. Without much thought, Hermione unwrapped her tail from his throbbing member, whispered a lubrication spell over her wand, and kissed him hard forcing him to lie back on the soft forest floor. 

"Spread your legs open for me, pet," she said, kissing him firmly when he complied with barely a noise. "Stay, pet, keep your hands where they are, and enjoy the ride," she muttered before turning around, hips grinding lightly against his lower abs as she rested her weight on her knees giving him a direct view of her swollen lips and puckered arse.

She felt him stiffen when she first prodded his arse with her wand, and slowly took his member and lowered herself onto him as she pushed her beaded wand into him more. 

"What-" he huffed, chest expanding rapidly, words slurring, "what are you doing, mistress?"

She smirked at the moniker once more before whispering a quiet _engorgio_ and allowing the wand to expand ever so slightly as she began to ride him in earnest, timing her downward thrusts to match when she pulled her wand out. She willed her wand to expand a bit more and watched his balls start to pull inward. She stopped again, right when she knew he would come. 

"Nooooooo," he sobbed deliriously behind her. She kept her wand thrusting in and out of him skidding against the prostate each time and slowly turned around to face him. 

"Pl-" he murmured, red eyes wide and full of something she was sure he didn't know he could feel, "please let me come, let us both come."

She cooed down at home, running her fingers down his cheek almost adoringly, "You’re right my sweet, I am denying myself as much as you. You beg so sweetly though, I think I can give us what we both want now."

And with that, Hermione impaled herself once more, this time filling herself with him at the same time her wand thrust into him. 

With her hands fitting her hair and her keens joining his stuttered breaths, they both came under the pale moonlight of the clearing, thrumming with magic as olde as time. Entirely unaware of the elder fae watching and bestowing their own dark blessings on the couple.

As Hermione slowly came down from her high, she realized somewhere she'd lost control of his bindings right when Voldemort seemed to notice the same thing.

She was just a tad faster, seeing he was wandless and she still had hers in hand. A purplish whirl enveloped him, trapping his balls and cock in a metal device containing interior spikes. An electrifying leash sprung from it, falling into her waiting free hand. He could no longer move without seriously injuring himself. 

"Now, now, let's not be a bratty pet,  _ dear _ . I'd hate for you to get hurt when we visit the Order."

"Granger, unha-"

Garbled noises were all that remained coming from his mouth where a gag ball erupted spontaneously and strapped itself tightly around his head. 

"Oh," Hermione said, slapping her hand to her mouth in mock shock, "did I forget to mention that insolent talk-back will be immediately punished upon."

Her mirth sparked off her, her hair electrified, her magical core sung as she sat above him in all her magnificent glory. Her power was intoxicating. He wanted to drink it all. She was more than he'd ever imagined when she first drew his attention with her rituals. She was dark, vicious, brilliant, and oh so powerful. He wanted to see what she'd do next. Somehow, he felt entirely safe in her hands, at ease, unlike he ever felt before. There was no stress in surrender. It was nice to have someone else do the work, to give up control. He wouldn't admit that to anyone, but he wanted her. He wanted her so badly it hurt.

Fuck! He really hurt. His cock, by Merlin, Salazar, and Peverell! 

His upcoming erection had immediately lost its appetite upon meeting the spikes.

Hermione chuckled above him. "So soon again?" She stroked his bald head. "If you're a good boy, I may reward you later. Now up and heel!" she ordered, jumping to her feet, her wings flapping.

He had no choice but to follow her as she led him around by his cock. The leash sent out shocks whenever he slowed down. He wanted to ask where they were going but only drool dripped down his mouth. At least she wasn't moving towards the manor. He really didn't want the Malfoys seeing him this way. She stopped next to Dumbledore's corpse and searched his pockets.

"Ah, got it," she cheered, rising with a silly sugar spoon in hand.

He raised a non existing eyebrow at her. She merely smiled in response.

"Now, let me look at you," she said, stepping back. "What is missing, pet? Does my good boy deserve a collar yet?" 

His eyes widened and unfocused at the thought. 

"You like that idea, don't you? Maybe later. If you've behaved yourself at the headquarters."

She stepped closer to his nude form, pushing her deliciously soft curves against him, and said, "Hold my waist if you don't want to get splinched horribly."

He quickly wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling his head against hers.

_ Crack!  _

The cacophony upon their arrival was hilarious if you asked him. Panic oozed in the dining room so deliciously he could taste it. Hermione, his glorious witch, waved her wand around silencing and smacking them all into the available chairs.

"Hello, everyone, as you can see I've subdued and taken over the reins from Lord Voldemort. Any of you who wish to join me can do so now or forever be my enemy."

"Hermione," Ron blushed red. "You're naked, and you have and what is that around his... you know what?"

"Like what you see, Ronald?" 

"You're - you have scales and claws and and you set me on fire!" 

The boy was quicker than Voldemort had ever granted him for. 

"Hermione, is that Albus' wand?" McGonagall asked sharply. 

Hermione looked at her wand and stroked it briefly, making Voldemort twitch uncomfortably. 

_ Don't get aroused. Don't get aroused _ , he repeated to himself. 

"Let's say he donated it generously," Hermione said with a sly smile. 

"You killed him," McGonagall said, staring at Voldemort and grabbing her wand. 

Hermione stepped between him and her former professor.

"He is under my protection, Professor."

Blasted witch. He groaned and folded double unable to restrain his cock from rising.

Another cacophony of noises, everyone talked through each other, shouts of traitor and more colourful expletives reached his ears. Hermione just stood there calmly, twiddling her wand. He wanted to kill them all for being this disrespectful to his Mistress. His rage started to grow. Then his eyes fell on a very quiet Harry Potter. As if Harry knew, he turned his attention from Hermione to him, green eyes meeting red. Triumph ran through him. He saw it in Potter's eyes. 

Harry coughed and rose. Everyone turned quiet and then tried to rise, too, but to their surprise, they couldn't.

Hermione smiled when Harry walked towards her and knelt down. 

"You've never let me down, Hermione. I'm with you all the way."

Shocked roars came from the others. 

"She is with Voldemort."

"She'll get you killed."

Hermione placed her hand on Harry's head. 

"You're safe now," she said, "You are mine." 

She looked up and mocked, "No one else? How disappointing yet unsurprising. I will change the wizarding world with or without you lot. Next time we meet I won't be so generous."

She turned to the two men with her. 

"Hold on tight," she said.

When they each grabbed a hold of her, their eyes met. Yet there was no animosity in them. Voldemort wondered how she did that. It had to be some sort of mood influencing charm but he couldn't pinpoint it. Then the familiar tug of Apparition began and they returned to Malfoy Manor's sitting room. 

Alas, it wasn't empty.

* * *

Lord Voldemort felt his wand hand twitch, seeing the three Malfoys.

And then he tried to laugh like when he was a little boy, but the ball gag had him choking on his tongue and saliva instead. He weezed through his reaction, forcing himself to stay upright as his chest convulsed with silent coughs. 

Opening his watering eyes, he focused and forced himself to not laugh once again. For the Malfoy boy was changing right before their eyes. Hermione seemed to follow his thoughts as she ripped Draco’s shirt open. There, exactly where his stomach would be, were twisting deep purple vine-like lines extending to the rest of his body. 

Moments later, Hermione was laughing with him to the amazement of all present, in her nudity, still covered in ash and mud from the forest floor, and holding tight to him and Harry Potter. 

"He ate it?" She looked at him, and at his slight nod, she sneered, "What a greedy boy, look how his body is changing, almost as if your soul is rejecting this form."

They felt his followers shift their attention to the partly nude Draco who was struggling to stand still under the scrutiny.

Slowly, he saw his white blonde hair darkening, his thin lips filling out into perfect mounds of perfection, and Draco’s lithe frame fill out into Tom's 22 year old physique. 

"This is what you gave up for immortality, Tom?" She whispered then he watched Hermiome's arse as she sashayed towards _Dracomort_ , grasping his chin tight and bringing their lips together. 

"This is a weak wizard, unable to contain his own magic, overpower a mere morsel of another wizard’s, and turn. He's so weak." She walked back over to him and Potter, running her fingers sensually across Potter’s, igniting a fury Tom didn't expect in him and a deep body shiver in her 'friend', "he's about to die." 

With a gasp, Narcissa lunged at her 'son', Lucius's pale face whiter than snow, as _Dracomort_ began to convulse as his soul piece rejected the host. With a cloud of glittery purple smoke, Draco fell, eyes wide open, silent for the rest of time.

* * *

Hermione watched as Tom's soul rejected Malfoy and attempted to find another host. She reached over and caressed his balls lightly and kissed his neck in reassurance that his soul piece would not be forgotten. 

He moaned at her attentions and fought valiantly to contain his physical reaction, knowing he still felt the spikes of the cage and heat of the leash. Stepping away, she was intrigued to see where this shade would end up but knew precautions were necessary yet again.

She disarmed both Malfoys, snapping their wands in half as she summoned clothes for her and her pet once again.

She had to focus a moment on just the right trousers to keep her caged prize hidden from view and the leash securely in place as the rest of the summoned clothes landed like water along their skin. 

Letting him focus on the soul piece he insisted on separating into a potato, Hermione turned to fully face his men, her soon to be followers or next victims with a vicious smile. Always mindful of the vicious purple glitter cloud swaying to and fro between the Death Eaters.

"You were always so talkative before", Hermione stated and slowly waltzed towards them. "Calling me all sorts of things. Or am I misremembering, darling?"

Voldemort first thought she had forgotten he was still wearing the gag ball, but then Harry answered.

"No. I remember it too", Harry said, calmly. "They were always cocky."

"Ha, cocky, yes. So why don't we see who wants to stay cocky and who wants to be cock... less."

"Now I'd have your lord explain to you why, but he's been a naughty boy and naughty boys don't get to talk without permission, right, pet?" 

She glanced at his direction and his face turned hot. He wouldn't, not in front of them - he felt the leash starting to heat up and immediately nodded his head demurely. 

Blasted devious witch. He wanted to fuck her so hard she would scream for mercy. 

"Good boy," she praised, making his prick twitch. Turning back to his stunned followers, she continued, "So that means I have to explain it. From here on forth, you shall no longer serve a lord but a lady." 

She paused, watching the distraught and confused mutterings among his followers who had all joined them after she had activated the dark mark. She wished she'd thought of a good name yet, but she supposed for now "my lady" would do. 

Above her, the purple glitter soul piece hovered in anticipation. It seemed excited and enthralled, yearning for power to regain his physical form.

"I just have one word for you all: kneel!"

The silence was deafening after Hermione finished her proclamation. She felt her tail unfurl behind her and begin to lightly graze over the ground as it swished back and forth. With barely a twitch of her hand and a clench of her jaw the first Death Eater, looking a lot like an older Marcus Flint was the first to fall. She forced his lifeless form to lay at her feet, the line clearly drawn. 

With supreme satisfaction, Hermione looked to Tom as they both noticed the purple glitter soul piece lose its glitter and began to lie closer to the ground.

"If you thought, if you truly believed, that someone who would cage and gag Your Dark Lord would be lenient when the order was to kneel, well it seems I have not been clear enough in my intentions." 

"I believe they need more proof of my power, pet." She glanced towards the Malfoys, both watching her from the corner of the room with calculating stares.

"It seems it is not enough that I have both Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter, docile, before you. It seems that it is not enough that I was able to _apparate_ in here without a thought to the centuries old wards this family Manor is imbued in. Excellent, a challenge then. Narcissa, come," she finished, hand outstretched to the stoic woman. 

She expected it, but was disappointed nonetheless when Narcissa spat on the ground before growling, "I shall never bow before a filthy mudblood and traitor to her own kind. I would rather die than assist you into power."

Flicking her wand, she forced Narcissa to bow before her and next to Lord Flint. "Fortunately for me, I know the importance of your womb and will happily deny your request for death. Instead, let us learn to appreciate each other, Lady Black."

With that, she let out a vibrant green from her wand, leaving Narcissa's husband laying lifeless over his son. "The House of Malfoy is no more," Hermione announced to the men, still imposing her will over Narcissa. Bending to maintain eye contact, Hermione took a deep breath in and focused her intent and dark magic on the need for Narcissa to bend the knee, to be her right-hand woman, and assure her loyalty without the use of an _imperius_.

With that she exhaled directly into her pale, pureblood face and watched in satisfaction as her eyes glazed over for just a moment and Hermione pulled on Tom's magic to enter her mind and confirm the magical breath took.

With a chuckle, she released her magical hold on Narcissa and ordered her to stand behind her as she returned her gaze to the audience before them. 

"What do you think, pet? Think any will choose power over pride?"

Louder, Hermione continued, "Who of you is willing to put aside your archaic and truly stupid ideas that Purebloods, a dying, mixed, in-bred population on this island, should rule above all else? Who of you is willing to move into the new tomorrow as I guide us all to a more powerful world where old men like Albus Dumbledore don't call the shots, and death to your children is not the answer. I am tired of being a pawn in an older wizard’s game. I am tired of being forced to kowtow to assholes who know less magic than I, conquered less spells than I, and don't have the very essence of magic thrumming through their veins like I do."

"I am happy to kill every last one of you. I know who stands with me beyond these two extraordinarily powerful men beside me. But because my pet has been so good, who doesn't want to die tonight?" Hermione nipped at Tom's neck when she finished, leaving open-mouthed kisses along his exposed pulse point both for her own pleasure and to demonstrate who was in charge to Tom and his 'followers'.

When the Lestranges stepped forward, fire in their eyes, she laughed. "How predictable. Of course you'd prefer death."

"No, my lady, we chose you," Rabastan pleaded. 

"Perhaps," she muttered, "but your brother wants to avenge his wife and brother-in-law's life. How valiant, Rodolphus. And how stupid." 

With a deep breath in, she let out a roar followed by the dragon fire she possessed and burned not only Rodolphus but 2 Averys, the Carrow twins, Nott Sr., and two non consequential followers, all who were ready to fight her off, and lose.

"Yes, look, my pet, look what their deaths are honoring tonight!" Hermione shouted as she watched the soul piece shift back into the shape it had taken before Draco's body could no longer hold it. "I could have so much fun with two of you," she purred and slowly, one by one the remaining men knelt before them. There were less than 15 marked death eaters left but they were hers now, and she would rectify the Dark Marks on their arms soon.

For now, it was time to play with both her Toms and send out these new minions to bring her the Order who would only add to Tom the Seconds’ corporeal form.

* * *

For a moment, Voldemort wondered if these ... clones could be considered Horcruxes of his. 

_ Interesting. _

He could work with that.

His misst- His Hermione couldn't possibly take care of all of him. He just had to bring in some reinforcements. 

Now where was Nagini?

His smile grew distinctly wicked. This had possibilities.

Seeing that Hermione was distracted he closed his eyes, and reached out to his bond with Nagini.

Time to make things more... interesting.

* * *

Something brushed against Hermione's foot. Startled, she looked to find Nagini winding herself around her legs. Hermione caught her pet's eye and raised an eyebrow in amusement. So he wanted to play it like that, did he?

Harry, spying the movement, stepped between Hermione and the snake. Opening his mouth, he crouched down and began whispering softly to Nagini. 

The snake twisted to look at Voldemort before looking back at Harry and nodding. Her long, thick body curled around Harry's legs and rested her head on his foot.

Hermione's eyes darted between her two men before turning back to the tiny group still alive. Spud!Tom had gained a visible form where she could see his body yet touching was impossible. She needed more power to bring him back fully corporeal.

"Round up anyone who dares oppose me," she told them, while the Tom shaped cloud floated around her as if basking in her magic. "My pet needs more magical power."

As she had dismissed them, she slowly turned around to her two men, Nagini, and cloud Tom.

"Now I did tell you two to play nice."

"He wants to overthrow you," Harry said, pointing from Nagini to Voldemort.

Hermione gained an amused expression.

"You can't change a Basilisk's nature, Harry, you can only modify it to suit its needs."

She pulled harshly on the leash, crashing Voldemort to his knees while he groaned in agony and something else.

"Now, does my pet require a punishment?" Hermione purred.

She tugged on his leash and relished in seeing his face contort in pain. He grunted, and a string of drool leaked from his lip that was plugged from the ball gag. “I asked you a question, Vold-,“ she paused and gave him a small smirk. “No, I should call you  _ Tom _ , that is your given name after all.”

His nose scrunched up, and a low growl erupted from his throat. She knew how much he  _ hated _ that name. Seeing the apparent anger reflected in his ruby red eyes only encouraged her to egg him on. 

“ _ Tom _ , such a muggle name, isn’t it, Tom?” She let out a small giggle as Tom’s eyes slanted, and his nostril flared. “Such a  _ common _ name isn’t it, Tom, that is,” she continued. She took a quick glance at the remaining Death Eaters. They were all slowly shuffling away and inching closer to the exit. With a wave of her hand, the door slammed shut. 

She looked back at Tom, and the air thickened with his magic. She could taste the dark magic in the air. Tom’s soul that came from Draco’s death was slowly circulating the two of them. His soul was attracted to Tom’s magic sparking off from his body – and it should, as his soul was without a tether and was probably seeking a strong host. She will have to deal with that, but first, she will teach Tom a lesson on obeying his master. 

She tapped the tip of her wand on her cheek, “I do dislike it when you’re still trying to find ways to disobey me, Tom.” His shoulders bunched up, and he took a small step towards her. “I’ve heard that you used to be a perfect student. I’m shocked that you didn’t retain anything from  _ my _ lessons.” She gave a small tug of his leash, and he hissed through the gag, more drool gushed out from his lips and dripped onto the floor. She tugged the leash again, and he moaned in pain as he shuffled closer to her in hopes of getting her to stop pulling. 

She didn’t.

She pulled harder and harder. 

A high keen escaped from his lips as he pressed his body against hers. She traced her wand up and down his arm. “I must say, I do like the name  _ Tom _ , it’s a perfect name for a pet, don’t you think, Tom?” 

His body trembled, and her skin tingled from his magic pouring out of his pores in droves. 

“Are you upset, Tom?” she asked. 

He did not respond. 

She stifled a laugh, “Oh, don’t be mad, Tom. I won’t punish you then. How about I reward you?”

His throat bobbed up then down in response. 

“I’m sure you have been dying for a release, right?” She asked as she let go of his leash. “I’m a generous master, Tom.” She took a step back, and with a wave of her wand, the cage that locked around his prick and bollocks clicked opened. It dropped to the floor with a heavy thud. She looked down at his prick and smiled wickedly as the spikes broke through his sensitive skin. It was red and inflamed. 

“I want you to get used to your real name, Tom. Not that ridiculous name you had created when you were a boy,” she said as her nose wrinkled in a clear show of distaste. She gave a small wave and his mangled prick slowly stitched up the broken skin. 

His chest ballooned then deflated in relief. He watched with a calculating glare, and she knew that he didn’t trust her at the slightest. 

“Oh Tom, don’t look at me like that. A master and pet should trust each other.” She waved her arm, and a stool screeched across the floor until it stood in front of Riddle. He looked down at the stool and then back at her, demanding on explanation.

She only gave him a sweet smile. 

“A reward,” she simply said. 

She circled around him and gave his back a hard push. He didn’t expect it as his knees crashed to the floor. He stopped his descent by bracing his arm against the stool. She quickly cast a sticking charm on the stool legs to adhere to the floor. Then, she pointed at his arms, and thick rope burst from the tip of her wand. It wrapped around his arm and the stool. He peered behind him to stare at her with wide eyes. 

She kicked open his legs and pointed her wand to the floor. The floor started to give, and he slowly sank into the floor until his feet and calves were encased. She cancelled the spell, and Tom thrashed about, trying to free himself from the floor. 

She circled around him again, “This is a submissive position. A position you look very good in, Tom.”

She turned to Harry – or rather the other Tom – and Nagini, who was staring at her with intrigue. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you-” she furrowed her brows, “I suppose you’re also Tom.”

Harry’s green eyes momentarily flashed red, but he kept a pleasant smile on his face. “I prefer a different name,” he paused before adding, “my lady.” 

She cocked her head to the side, “Then  _ Tommy _ will do.” His brows furrowed, and his smile quickly turned downward. 

“Tommy,” he repeated with a deadpan expression. 

“Yes, it rhymes with  _ Harry _ ,” she said with a careless wave of her hand. 

He cleared his throat, dissatisfaction clear on his face. 

“I insist on a different name,” Tommy said, trying to keep his tone even. 

She quirked a brow, “And I  _ insist _ on Tommy.”

She knew what he was planning to do through their connection and immediately drew her wand and pointed at his jugular. 

Unfortunately for Tommy, Harry’s body was not as quick as her hybrid dragon form as he only managed to draw his (Harry’s) wand from his pocket. 

“Looks like you need to be punished,” she said. 

Tommy kept up his defiant glare, and she felt excitement tingle down her spines. Already, her brain travelled a mile a second of all the different types of punishment she could dish out. Unfortunately, she had to pick a punishment that doesn’t require too much of her attention as she still had to deal with the damn shard of Riddle’s soul floating about. 

She took a step back and wagged her wand, and hummed loudly before snapping her finger. “Tom’s reward is release. Your punishment is denial.” 

Tommy’s dark brows knitted together, “Hardly sounds like a punishment.”

Oh, she loved the condescending tone laced in his words. The challenge of breaking her new toy was the best part. After all, she got to experience that moment with Tom when she broke through his rebellious nature into a sub.

She took several steps back, and she wordlessly vanished his clothes. He was now stark naked. His prick hung limp, and he was shorter than Tom, but what he lacked in length, he made up for  _ girth _ . She did not realize how thick Harry’s prick was. She licked her lips and looked up to his face through her lashes. He gave her a smirk and quirked a brow that said  _ like what you see _ . She bit her lower lip and pressed her damp thighs together. She couldn’t wait until she saw his face tormented in frustration and pleasure. She exhaled sharply as she rubbed her thighs together, attempting in vain to alleviate some ache from her now sopping core. 

She pointed her wand and felt a bubble of mirth when Tommy’s eyes widened in horror when his body was pulled until he stood in front of a subdued Tom. His prick was at Tom’s eye level. 

“What are you doing, Witch!” Tommy hissed as he barely managed to wiggle his body from her magic’s bind. 

“Class is in session, Tommy.” She waved her wand diagonally, and thick manacles clasped around his ankles and wrist. She waved her wand downwards then upwards. Chains burst out from the manacles. His ankles were firmly secured to the floor. His arms raised above his head as she impaled the chains through the ceiling. With a lazy flick, she released her initial magical binding, allowing Tommy to thoroughly test the strength of the chain. 

She sauntered over to Tommy and quickly took Harry’s wand from his grasp. She caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. “Oh, Tommy, I do hope you’re a quick learner.”

He only grunted as he fought with the binds. She plucked a piece of her hair and flicked her wand at it. The hair grew thicker in length. With another swish of her wand, the hair flew down towards Tommy’s prick. It wrapped several times around the base of his prick. 

“Oh, it seems you truly enjoy being a submissive,” she said as she eyed his prick slowly hardening, “right down to your  _ soul _ .” 

“Witch, you’ll regret doing this to me,” Tommy growled as he continued to fight against his bondage. 

“That’s mistress to you,” Hermione clicked her tongue, before turning back down to Tom. She patted his head, “Good boy, you were so patient, weren’t you?”

Tom only jerked his head away from her touch. “Aww, you don’t like to share my attention, is that it?” she cooed, and he only managed a garbled response before more saliva dripped from his lips. She laughed before placing a small kiss on his forehead with mock affection. She pointed her wand to her hand, and a purple sparkly phallic appeared in her hand. 

She showed Tom the dildo, and his eyes narrowed as he quirked his head to the side. “This is a dildo, Tom, and it’s about 8 and a half inches.” His eyes widened in realization, what a smart boy he was. “Yes, Tom, this will go in your arse.” 

The moment he heard  _ arse _ , he tried his best to scream in protest through his ball gag. It came out muffled, and he only created a small puddle of saliva over his bound arms. She unclasped the ball gag, and he took three deep breaths before he choked from the dildo shoved aggressively into his mouth. She hit the back of his mouth, and his back curled up as he gagged.

“That’s it, lubricate it for me. If you don’t lubricate it well, it’s going to hurt. I just want you to feel good, Tom.” She patted his shoulder as she held the dildo in place. She felt a small resistance from Tom’s tongue, trying to push the dildo out of his mouth. 

His eyes started to water as he periodically gagged from the dildo pressed against the back of his throat. She finally pulled the dildo out of his mouth once his saliva rolled down the dildo and coated her hand. “Good boy,” she whispered before removing the dildo. She waved her hand to place the ball gag back in place before he got a word out of his mouth. She took a quick glance up at Tommy, who seemed entranced by her every movement. His prick nodded in appreciation, and a bead of pre-cum was in the precipice of dripping over Tom’s bound arm. 

She went around Tom and knelt in front of his presented bare arse. 

The tight ring of muscles contracted as she blew air on it. He responded with a moan and dropped his head low to rest against his arm. She rubbed the wet tip of the dildo against his hole. His thighs trembled as his hip jerked forward. 

She pushed the dildo in, inch by inch. The ring of muscle stretched to accommodate the girth. She was halfway there until Tom ripped out a low muffled moan. She kept pushing in until his body’s natural barrier stopped her. 

Tom whimpered as he continued to thrust into nothing but air.

“Good pet,” Hermione whispered, “this dildo is going to vibrate in interval now, Tom.” She pointed her wand at it, and the dildo whirred into life. “It will vibrate for 20 minutes and pause for 10 minutes and will continue to repeat that cycle until I stop it.”

Tom’s muffled scream made Hermione take a short pause to catch her own ragged breath. She felt her own arousal gush out from her core, which quickly cooled her wet thighs with the open air. 

“This will stimulate your prostate gland, and you can come however many times you  _ can _ , Tom.” 

Hermione knew that this was not exactly a reward. He will enjoy the first powerful orgasm, but after the second and third, he will be begging for her to stop. It seems she was not a forgiving mistress after all. 

She then stood up and faced a fully hard Tommy. “As for your punishment,” she pointed her wand at his prick, and he took a sharp breath. She pointed the wand at her hand, and a small pink vibrator, the size of her thumb, appeared. 

“This will constantly vibrate weakly,” she said as she turned on the device. She waved her wand, and the pink bullet shot out of her hand and into Tommy’s arsehole. 

He bellowed in pain as the bullet penetrated him  _ dry _ . His cry slowly morphed into soft moans, and he thrust his hips towards Tom. His prick barely grazed Tom’s head. 

“W-what is this?” he whimpered as his hand turned white from trying to squeeze his hands out from the manacle. 

“Your punishment,” she answered. She then summoned a fleshlight. “This is a fleshlight,” she said with a prim voice, “I will magic this to stroke your prick over and over again.”

His breath came out in short puffs, and his black fringe clung to his forehead. The fleshlight wrapped around his prick and Tommy roared as he violently thrust his hips up. 

“I also forgot to mention,” she said with a small grin, “I may have cast a small charm to prevent you from coming.”

“WHAT!” Tommy growled as his voice dissolved into short whimpers and moans from the stimulation of his erogenous zone.

Right on cue, Tom gave out a muffled shout as his butt cheeks clenched the dildo. His shoulders trembled as he came. 

“Your punishment is every time my dear Tom comes, you’ll be denied your orgasm. Your punishment ends when Tom faints from over-stimulation.” She patted his shoulder, “I do hope you’re a quick learner, Tommy.”

She then turned towards the remaining Death Eaters. Now, she needed to tackle her next problem. Getting a body for Cloud Riddle. 

“You should rejoice, my loyal followers,” she said as she stretched her arms out. “Because of you, you will save the Dark Lord’s lost soul.”

The wizards only stared at her with vacant eyes. 

She turned to Narcissa, “You will be crucial to this revival, be glad that I found a use for you.” 

Narcissa wrinkled her nose and snarled out, “I’d rather die than to help you, you filthy Mudblood.”

Hermione smiled, “Well, it’s too bad you don’t have a choice in this matter,” she pointed her wand at Narcissa and cast a  _ petrificus totalus _ . “Just be a good girl and stay put. I’ll wake you up when I need you.” 

She turned to the remaining fifteen Death Eaters. 

“I only need five of you,” Hermione said while waving her hand lazily. The rest of you, go and capture the remaining Order members. She  _ accio’d _ a small silver key that was a Portkey to the Order’s main headquarter. She tossed the key to Rabastan, and he caught it before bowing his head in reverence.

“Rabastan, pick ten Death Eaters to accompany you,” she ordered. 

A loud sob escaped from Tommy’s lips. She turned back to see Tom’s hands closed into a tight fist, and his face was red as he cried in frustration and jerked his hip back and forth. The chain rattled from his thrashing. 

She turned back to see some of the Death Eaters, twisting their own hips to the side, trying to hide their obvious growing erection. 

Rabastan cleared his throat, “Right away, my lady.” He picked ten Death Eaters that she couldn’t bother to know the name of. They grabbed each other’s shoulder, and Rabastan activated the Portkey. The group _disapparated_ with a pop. 

“Now, the five of you,” she paused, and knew the ritual would be quite painful. She was a merciful Lady and would grant them the gift of being unconscious so that they could give their body without feeling any excruciating pain. It also helped that in her hybrid form, her hearing was quite sensitive, and she did not fancy listening to blood-curdling screams. She pointed her wand to the five nondescript Death Eaters and knocked them unconscious. 

“How are you holding up there, Tommy?” she called out as she floated each of the Death Eaters’ bodies and laid them to form a circle. A strangled cry of  _ please _ was all Tommy said as he dissolved into another bout of whimpers. 

“How about you, Tom?” she asked before she chuckled lightly when Tom didn’t utter a sound. She briefly wondered how many times he came and if he fainted right about now. She flicked her wand and levitated Narcissa’s body and placed her in the center of the circle of bodies.

She overlooked the six unconscious bodies laid before her. Riddle’s soul drifted towards her, she could see the outline of his body, but his face remained a blank slate. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you your body soon,” Hermione said. Riddle nodded and stood next to her. 

She raised her Elder Wand and took a deep breath before channeling her magic through the wand. She reached out to the two currently indisposed Tom and Tommy’s magic and let it flow through her like a conduit before pouring it into her wand. A bright red beacon shot out from the tip of her wand. 

“ _ Corporis, _ ” she shouted, and the body placed at the top of the circle slowly dissolved into a gelatin-like substance that left behind a lump of pink flesh that slowly soaked through their robes. “ _ Cor meum _ .” 

The next body to the right of the lump of flesh, had their chest slowly opened from their skin peeling out that bloomed like a rose until their beating heart was revealed. 

Her legs trembled, the ritual demanding more magic from her. A bead of sweat rolled down from her temple to the point of her chin. 

“ _ Animo _ .” 

The next body combusted into flames until only ash remained. 

“ _ Spiritus _ .” 

The next body convulsed until his pores released a white billowing smoke. His body quickly shriveled up, and his eyes drooped low until it fell out of its eye sockets, held only by a single ligament. 

“ _ Vis _ .” 

The last body rapidly aged, his once salt and pepper hair bled out the remaining colours until thin wisps of white hair remained. His skin sagged until he was only bone and skin. 

She pointed her wand to Narcissa’s womb and forced the remainder of her magic and screamed, “ _ PROCRETIO _ .”

The wand grew hot in her hand, and the bright light blinded her sight, and she shut her eyes in fear that she might go blind. The floor shook below her, and the magic made the air thick and hard to breathe. 

She felt her body stretched too thin, and her mind could not comprehend if she was stuck in this position for eternity or if she only stood still for a second. Her lungs expanded, and her chest was going to burst if it expanded any further. Her mouth was dry, and her body continued to run hot as her magical core turned molten heat from acting as a conduit for Riddle’s magic. 

The light finally faded, and she slowly opened her eyes. Narcissa still lay paralyzed, surrounded by the clothes of the late Death Eaters. It seems the remainder of their bodies burned away from the ritual. She took in a shaking breath and cast a _renneverate_ on Narcissa. She rose with a gasp. 

Hermione looked at her surroundings and could not see Riddle’s soul anywhere. 

“Wh-what did you do?” Narcissa said with a raspy voice. 

Hermione just stared at her stomach, and Narcissa’s hand immediately hovered over her womb. 

“No-No-No,” Narcissa repeated as tears fell from her pale silvery eyes. 

Hermione matched her gaze, and her lips slowly curled into a smile. 

“I will remember your service, Narcissa,” Hermione said, her throat was rough like sandpaper. 

Narcissa let out a ghastly wail as she kept chanting, “ _ no, please, Merlin, please. _ ” 

Hermione watched in wonderment as Narcissa’s stomach blew up. She was idly reminded of the time when she went to a county fair. The clown had a tank of helium and blew a red balloon for her.

Narcissa’s breath came out in short puffs, and she lay back down. She planted her feet to the floor. 

Hermione knelt between Narcissa’s leg, and her claw caught the band of her dainty looking knickers. She slipped the knickers off and hitched the witch’s long robe until it bunched up around her hips. 

“Are you ready?” Hermione wetted her lips as she stared at the entrance of Narcissa’s contracting quim. 

“Nooo!” Narcissa screamed, and a crown of dark hair was pushed out of Narcissa. She kept screaming, her nails scratching up the surface of their polished wooden floor. 

A gush of liquid sprouted from Narcissa; her water broke. With the force of the expelling liquid, the baby was also pushed out from her. 

The baby laid on the floor in a fetal position with the umbilical cord still intact. Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust. Her stomach churned, and the smell of blood and urine was burning her nose. 

With a hesitant wave of her wand, the umbilical cord was cut. She cast  _ scourgify _ on Narcissa and the baby. Narcissa promptly fainted, and with her shallow breaths, she wondered if Narcissa was going to die. Her train of thought was promptly cut off when she watched with sick fascination as the pink mottled baby grew and grew. His skin turned alabaster, and his dark hair grew out in soft waves. 

Within a minute, the body stopped growing. His eyes fluttered open before his brows furrowed and his eyes in near slit as he focused his attention on Hermione.

“And that’s how you create a new body, Thomas,” Hermione said with a toothy grin.

Thomas's dark eyes looked down, while examining his new adult body inch by inch with his hands. Hermione held her breath when he stroked his cock before inhaling deeply and focusing those deep dark eyes back on her. He drew his hand through his pitch-black hair, causing it to fall just as she liked it. His head tilted slightly, and he smiled a most devious smile.

Hermione felt her cunt throbbing in need. Oh boy, that one was going to be trouble. She always had been a sucker for handsome fellows and Thomas Riddle was the epitome of them all and knew how to use it to his advantage.

"How may I thank you for this gift, Mistress," Thomas said smoothly, dropping to his knees in front of her and bowing his head. 

Her need rose at his submissive display. Her thighs squirmed against each other. 

_ So, so much trouble. _

Yet it wouldn't hurt to relieve this tension spreading through her, and she just had to see how well he was at serving his mistress.

Yes, she needed to check his worthiness.

She sashayed towards him, placed her hand under his chin and lifted his head to meet those dark eyes of his. So dark, they were an abyss you could fall for and swim in, never coming up for air again. Her heart skipped a beat. 

_ Oh, so, so, so much trouble. _

It would better be worth it.

Who was she if not a good Mistress granting a service Thomas seemed so eager to give.

She stroked his chin, cupping his cheek.

"Are you willing and able to service me?"

"May I?" Thomas said, extending his hands to her legs, halting an inch away from them.

She felt the power pricking her skin. There was something different to it from Voldemort's,  _ Tom's _ , she immediately corrected in her mind. This felt like partly hers, like what she did to resurrect him had mingled his and hers magic. She could sense his need to connect with her. She could sense the magic's need.

Hermione gasped in awe. She had created this glorious being, this powerful person willing to bend before her and serve her. He needed to serve her. It was ingrained in every inch of him, in his very soul.

"You may."

His hands touching her legs shot pleasant sparks up, it electrified her core. Her knees weakened as he trailed every inch of the outside of her legs with fingertips' light touch. He looked up at her questioningly.

She nodded. She wasn't sure her speech wouldn't come out shaking and she would show no weakness around this one. He wouldn't like it.

His mouth made contact with the inside of her legs at the knee. She let out a moan as he slowly traced upwards with his tongue. 

"Does this please my Mistress," he breathed against her sensitive skin.

"Very much so," Hermione groaned.

He chuckled against the inside of her thigh, grabbed her legs firmly and then made contact with her cunt. When she had lost her clothes, she had forgotten but his attentions were marvelous. Her clit sang with every swirl and curve of his tongue. It shot up her spine every time his lips sucked.

Oh God, her knees wouldn't hold. She placed her hands on his shoulders to stop her fall, but his arms wrapped around her hips, holding her up, knees bent, yet their magic kept her above him. Like he didn't want to be higher than her, his Mistress.

She felt the first wave coming, crashing, plummeting into her, through her, making her toes curl and her face flushed with the rising heat and magnificent electrifying sensation. 

She screamed louder than she ever had, while behind her Voldemort, no Tom, lost consciousness and Tommy screamed in agony. 

Glorious.

She was on top of the world.

The sound of multiple cracks of apparition brought her attention back to the situation at hand. The Order. Yes. That. Stroking her palm down her pet's face she cupped his jaw and brushed her thumb over his lips. His tongue darted out, brushing her thumb teasingly.

''Now now pet, we have work to do first.''

"Dear Godric, what is this?" Hermione heard a whisper behind her.

She slowly turned around, a smirk on her face.

“ _ You _ ,” Molly Weasley spat out.

“Yes.  _ Me _ ,” Hermione said as she slowly stepped down from the platform towards the redhead.

“Hermione, what happened? They said You-Know-Who killed Dumbledore,” Ginny spoke up.

“Now did they?” Hermione asked, annoyed. “He’d had countless times in the past to do so. Pray tell why he hadn’t done it sooner if he had the ability to?”

From the corner of her eye, she saw something like realization appeared on McGonagall’s face. The professor slowly began to shake her head as if in denial.

“No...” she whispered, her eyes wide with horror.

The smirk on Hermione’s face widened.

“Yes.”

Lupin’s eyes snapped between them and then it dawned on him, too.

“ _ You _ killed him?” Lupin asked.

Hermione tapped her wand against her cheek. “Hm ... yes, maybe I did.”

There was a moment of chaos as the Order members started shouting at Hermione. Had it been aimed towards someone else, she would’ve found some of the colorful and creative swears rather amusing. Surprisingly, McGonagall remained quiet, her back straight even though she was kneeling there. Though she hardly moved, Hermione thought she saw tears in the professor’s eyes, though she wasn’t sure if it were for the old Headmaster or because Hermione killed him herself.

“You  _ bitch _ ! I knew my son was too good for someone like you. I’ve known it all along, all those ridiculous— _ ridiculous _ stories we’ve heard about you. Hungry for fame and attention to just throw yourself at anyone to get them. And poor Ron was so naïve, so  _ pure _ to think that it was only because Rita Skeeter had a grudge against you. She was obviously on to something,” Molly shouted. “And poor dear Harry actually beli-“

Her words were suddenly cut off as her tongue fell out of her mouth and onto the floor with a splat.

Hermione turned her head to the side until her eyes met with Thomas’s, who was now standing and had his hand raised towards Molly. Cold fury was written all over his face and his eyes were now a vibrant red.

“Forgive my interference, my Mistress,” Thomas said. 

Hermione’s lips curled upwards into a smile as she sauntered back towards him. Placing her free hand on the back of his neck, she pulled him into a searing kiss. She considered cutting off Arthur’s tongue when shouts of “Molly” could be heard while she snogged her pet. But then what was the fun of that? Especially for what she was going to do next.

“I should punish you for that,” she said softly, running the top of the Elder Wand down the side of his face. “But I can be a merciful Mistress.”

Thomas looked at her, his eyes now back to their normal color.

_ Definitely the right decision to bring this one back to corporeal form. _ Hermione thought to herself as she drank in his good looks.

With a wave of her free hand, one of the wands belonging to a dead Death Eater flew into it. 

Placing it into Thomas’s hand, she said, “Show me how talented you are with torture spells, my pet.” She gestures towards Molly.

A cruel smile appeared on Thomas’s face. “If it pleases my Mistress.”

Watching him perform magic was an exhilarating experience, especially with that beautiful face of his. The power he exerted lapped around her body, nearly making her moan. It called to the dark magic within her, making it hum against her skin.

While he held a particular nasty spell that caused Molly’s skin to ripple like tiny waves against her flesh and cause the redhead to twist and turn on the floor in agony, she draped her body around Thomas’s.

“What was it you wanted to say again, Mrs. Weasley? I couldn’t hear you properly the first time,” Hermione taunted, causing Thomas to chuckle.

“Molly! Molly!” Arthur cried, tears running down his face.

Shouts of Mum could be heard coming from the other Weasleys, but Ginny remained silent, her eyes trained on Thomas and her face ash-grey.

“Oh right, I’d forgotten she’d seen this face before,” Hermione murmured to herself as she brushed a fingertip under Thomas’s chin.

Thomas cast her a questioning look, but being the excellent multi-tasker that he was, he didn’t stop with the curses he hurled towards Molly. 

Skin was now peeling off Molly’s body in thin threads, and blood was slowly forming a puddle beneath her. Some of the Order members with weaker hearts had already fainted. A small bunch was still shouting at Hermione while the rest trembled in fear and disbelief at what was happening before their eyes. 

“Stop it, Hermione! Why are you doing this? Mum’s never done anything to you!” Fred shouted.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Did he forget what had literally just happened?

“Didn’t you hear her, Fred?” Hermione asked, running a hand down Thomas's chest. “I’m so desperate for fame. This is the perfect chance for me to show the world who their new mistress is and what would happen to those who defy me.”

The moment the last piece of skin fell off Molly’s body, Hermione flicked her wand and sent a flash of green towards Molly, ending her life. 

“Have fun sending people tiny Easter eggs in the afterlife, Mrs. Weasley,” she said coldly to the corpse before she released Thomas and turned toward the rest of the Order members. “I am the wizarding world’s new Dark Lady. Succumb to me and live. Defy me and learn what it means to regret the day you were born. The choice is yours.”

"You think I'd do your bidding after what you just did to my wife!"

Hermione ignored him, walking away, hooking Thomas's arm to check on her two unconscious pets. She revived and healed Tommy easily. 

"There, there, my dear," she whispered, stroking his hair, "if you're a good boy and protect us, I will reward you beyond your wildest dreams."

Eager, Tommy rose to his feet and stepped between them and the Order members in custody. No idea Hermione was planning to test if his loyalties would hold up under these kinds of severe circumstances. Nonverbally, she cast a spell, loosening Arthur's ropes.

As she was taking care of her other unconscious pet, she was wondering if it would take him forever to realize he could free himself. Perhaps she had overestimated Weasley's abilities? Surely she couldn't possibly make it easier.

She heard his cry for what she assumed he meant to scare her with. She didn't turn, however, clutching Thomas's arm warningly.

"Not your prey."

Arthur's footsteps got closer and closer.

_ Come on, Tommy, don't let me down. _

Her face lit up when she heard the thud of a body falling to the ground.

"Heal this one, Thomas," she said, stroking Voldemort's bald head. "Don't worry, once you've done this I got someone special left for you to torture." Her eyes glanced towards the pale-faced Ginny. "She read your journal and just loves the sight of you."

Thomas's eyes lit up in delight. "Thank you, Mistress. May I do with her whatever I want?"

Hermione smirked, her dark power oozing off her. "Be as creative as you wish. She is my gift to you."

Hermione turned to Tommy, and tutted at him. "Harry, Harry, Harry, you say you're on my side, yet a stunning charm?"

"The-they took me in," Harry said. "It's not easy, Hermione. I don't wish for their deaths."

"I know, dear," she got up and stroked his hair. "You did stop him from killing me, because of that I'll be merciful. You may leave."

Harry swallowed. "I think I would like-" his eyes flashed red, interrupting his speech and a new, completely different tone of voice despite coming from the same mouth came forward- "and miss all the fun? I think I'll stay."

Hermione stepped back, examining the wizard who now stood before her. He stood taller, oozed confidence, and was inescapably present, like he enjoyed attention when it was given. This wasn't Harry. Knowing every dark spell that would exit Harry's wand would impact the person being suppressed underneath she said, "What fun would you suggest we could have with the Weasley patriarch?"

The smile on Harry's face was beyond evil, contorted his features and made him anything but the Harry Potter she once knew and was about to destroy.

"Allow me to demonstrate," he said, stepping forward. For a second, he turned back, "Do I have free rein, Mistress?"

A wicked smile grew on Hermione's face. Only Dumbledore knew of the Horcrux, the rest would think this was Harry Potter doing this to them. Only Ginny would recognize Tom Riddle, but she already had the solution to that.

"One moment,  _ Harry _ ." 

Riddle smirked, picking up on her plan fast.

"Thomas!" 

She looked back at the two Riddles. Thomas had healed Voldemort and revived him as she had asked.

"Good, my pets are all awake for the show. You will enjoy this, my dearest."

Voldemort's eyes eagerly went across the captured group. She could tell he wanted to join in. Well, he would just have to be content to watch for now.

"Only good boys get toys to play with," Hermione whispered. "Thomas, please take Ginny to your chambers and enjoy."

Ginny's blood-curdling scream when Thomas stopped in front of her and yanked her up could've woken up the dead.

"Revive Arthur," Hermione ordered 'Harry', "I'd hate for him to miss this."

"Rennervate!"  _ Harry _ cast. 

Arthur woke to the sounds of his screaming daughter being pulled away and Harry looming over him.

"Stop them!" he yelled at  _ Harry _ . "You love her."

"Love her?"  _ Harry _ snorted. "That insipid little girl who only wanted me because I'm the great Harry Potter? I wouldn't touch her with a Quidditch goal post. Riddle seems to like her enough," Ginny's desperate cries made the Order members in the room flinch. "I'm sure he'll give her a good time. He is rather famous, too, you know."

Arthur struggled, desperately trying to get up, but he couldn't move.

"We took you in as if you were our own! We took you in!"

"Your mistake,"  _ Harry _ said coldly. " _ Crucio _ !"

Arthur thrashed and writhed. The Order members looked on in horror how his body bent in impossible angles. Bones snapped. Tendons tore.

"Enjoying the view, Neville?"  _ Harry _ asked sweetly.

The boy's face had turned red with fury.

"Ho-ho-how c-ca-can you d-do this!?"

"It's easy, wanna try?"

Neville shook his head in anger. "Never."

"Never,"  _ Harry _ said like he tasted the word on his lips and didn't like it at all. "You shouldn't say things you don't mean, Neville. You will use the torture curse on Arthur Weasley right now."

"No," Neville said, tight lipped. "I'm nothing like you."

"True, but you love her, don't you?"  _ Harry _ altered the destination of his wand and struck Luna. The blond girl's eyes turned a milky glaze. "Kiss him."

Luna walked to the bald-headed snake-faced version whose face lit up in amusement as she bent forward and -

"Stop!" yelled Neville, causing Luna's motions to halt

"Tease," muttered Voldemort towards Hermione who just winked at him getting disappointed again.

"I'll do it, but I need my wand."

The moment Neville had his wand, naturally he foolishly tried attacking them.

"Tsk tsk tsk,"  _ Harry _ tutted. "Remember, this is on you. Strip, Luna!"

"Noooo!"

" _ Crucio _ !" Neville tried cursing Arthur and failed. " _ Crucio _ !"

" _ Crucio _ !"

A slight twitch of Arthur's arm was all that happened. 

Luna was now naked in Voldemort's lap, kissing him deeply.

"Such weakness, Longbottom, Luna will sure thank you once Voldemort's cock is buried deep inside of her. I doubt she'll remain intact after he is done."

" _ Crucio _ !" Neville desperately shouted.

Arthur's back curved and he thrashed for real.

"Oh, for Salazar's sake," Voldemort swore, his cock already stiff and hard. "Not again."

Arthur writhed and Neville was about to lower his wand when  _ Harry _ said, "You don't stop unless I give the order."

Eventually, Arthur contorted so violently the snapping of his neck sent a cold shiver down the Order Members's spine. Neville lowered his wand angrily and sad.

"Happy now."

"Mildly satisfactory."

_ Harry _ turned to Voldemort, "She is all yours. Break her."

Neville screamed and ran towards . "You said-"

_ Harry's _ curse froze him on the spot. 

"Don't stop unless I give the order. You stopped."

"He was dead."

"Minor detail. Enjoy the show, Neville Longbottom, the curse I just inflicted upon you will make you feel everything she does and when she dies, and I promise you she will - slowly and painfully - so will you."

As Hermione observed her pets, Nagini slithered her way towards her. Smirking, she decided to twist the proverbial knife a bit more. Catching the remaining Order members’ eyes, she purred at the giant snake.

''Hungry darling? Plenty of food around for you. We girls need to look out for one another ''

Nagini slithered towards her and affectionately rubbed her head against Hermione's tail.

"Aaw, do you want me to be your new Mistress, too?" Hermione asked as the screaming increased behind them.

Nagini hissed and pushed her body against Hermione. Hermione patted her head in response. No wonder Tom had kept her close by, she was such a sweet creature.

"No, no for the love of Mer-" someone screamed but Hermione was only listening with half an ear, her mind spinning in a new direction.

Humans weren't worthy of their place in this world. They thought themselves entitled to everything, mass murdering every other species in this world. Destroying the very planet that was their home.

What did she need them for? She had her pets. Three Toms to keep her satisfied for eternity while the world healed itself of the plague that was humanity.

Yes, that idea had some merits.

She looked around the room, relishing at the carnage before her. She turned to see the rest of the Death Eaters huddling in a group near the exit. She sauntered towards them with a small skip in her steps. 

“Rabastan,” she called out.

Rabastan scurried out from the group and bowed low. “You called my Lady?”

She looked down at his head, dipped low, and his hair hung over his eyes. She entertained the possibility of causing mass extinction of the human race - where only her Toms and her existed until the end of time. 

Her hand drifted up and landed softly on his head. She felt him trembling beneath her touch. Biting her lower lip, she realized she couldn’t deny the idea of ruling over peons either. There was something to be said about seeing all of humanity rise together to try and defeat her and relish in the feeling of her enemies' anguished face and trampled on hope.

She weighed her options. She thought of a quiet life with her Toms and pushing the boundary of magic. Human sacrifice did make for a good ingredient for dark magic. She would revisit this thought later. First, she would have to deal with  _ her _ followers. 

“Gather the Snatchers and bring them here. Take him—" She pointed at a random follower. "—and him." Her index finger drifted to the person next to said follower. She dropped her hand from his head. 

He raised his head, but never above her, never looking down on her despite the height difference.  _ Oh, he catches on quick. _

“Yes, my Lady,” he said with a quick nod. He spun on his heel and addressed the three followers, disapparating with a loud  _ crack _ . 

The remaining Death Eaters awkwardly waited for her next order. She gave them a saccharine smile, and a peal of laughter erupted when she saw all of them visibly stiffen.

Nagini's head pushed against Hermione's hand more insistingly.

"Yes, my dear, in a minute," Hermione said, snapping Luna's neck with a twist of her wrist.

Behind her Neville plummeted to the ground. Voldemort just looked at the corpse in his lap and groaned at his still hard erection.

"Envious, my Mistress?" he asked smugly.

"You won't ever need others, my pet. We will cleanse this world of the vermin that is humanity and start brand-new in our names."

His slit-pupiled eyes turned an oval shape.

"Rise," she said, waving through the room, having come to an ultimate decision. No more jobs left half done. That was Lord Voldemort's mistake. Not finishing when he could have. She wouldn't be him. "I leave you to kill them all as you see fit, including the ones who are being brought here as we speak."

"No survivors?"

"None." she said, handing him his wand. 

He bowed his head, and with a vicious grin, moved towards them, cock still hard in the air.

"Please join us with that when you're done," Hermione added, pointing to his cock. "And bring Tommy."

"It will be my pleasure, Mistress."

"Nagini," Hermione said, feeling the snake curl around her dragon tail. "Wait till we are in the other room. My dragon senses want to join the carnage otherwise."

Slowly, Nagini slithered away, Hermione following suit.

As she entered the master bedroom, which was most ridiculously opulent, she swished her wand vanquishing all unnecessary trinkets and furniture. She needed room to play with her pets. Nagini slithered around her tail, curling and curling. The sensation was unlike anything she felt before. The touch overwhelmed her. Magic was thick in the air surrounding every inch of her. She tilted her head back and burned the ceiling with her breath. 

So good. 

Something opened in her tail and she felt a push and then they were linked. One being. Hermione groaned, stroking the snake's head, who settled on her belly.

"You truly are magical, aren't you?"

"I am capable of many things," Nagini hissed, her tongue darting out and licking Hermione 's clit. 

"I can understand you!" 

"We are linked."

"Oh."

The door opened, and Thomas came in. 

Hermione tilted her head back and held out her hand for him to take. 

"Done already?" 

"She bored me."

"Well, I trust I won't, pet," Hermione said, capturing his mouth in a searing kiss. 

A sudden familiar power pulsed through the manor. It smelled like despair and rot, like death had arrived to never leave. She embraced it, basked in its glory. Dark magic. If only she had known sooner how wondrous it was, she'd done that ritual ages ago. Hermione smiled at Thomas. 

"It seems we are gaining power now. Tom is doing an excellent job."

As the dark power rolled and rolled over them, she inhaled sharply. It was all she ever wanted, all she ever needed.

She felt it building and building. A pressure so bad, it was almost on the edge of being painful. Her tail twisted and turned as Nagini's tongue darted to her clit. She was full yet empty at the same time.

"Thomas," she breathed, pushing him away from her mouth. "I need-"

The door opened. The three of them turned their heads and Hermione felt a delight unlike before. Besides Voldemort and Tommy, there were more of them. So many Riddles to serve her.

Glorious.

Just what she needed.

"I see you've been a naughty boy,  _ Tom _ ," she teased. "I recall saying kill not resurrect."

Voldemort glided towards her. "Au contraire, Mistress, 'as you see fit'," he repeated her words back to her. Reaching beside her, he leaned to her ear and breathed, "I saw fit to use their deaths to resurrect all of me."

"For your pleasure," he added, licking the side of her neck. 

Hermione moaned and arched her back. Her cunt felt too empty, but she was about to fix that issue easily.

"There couldn't possibly have been enough bodies there to achieve this," she countered, gesturing at all the Riddles standing behind him.

"The Dark Mark has so many uses, Mistress. I never needed their presence to torture or kill them." He laughed. "And anyone they touched at the time, anyone bearing their name, their genes, would share their fate. It's how you avoid treason. Instant death."

"Convenient," Hermione approved. "I suppose we will need another way to kill the rest of humanity then." She took one look at Thomas and grinned. "We know the ingredients. All we need is a market and no golden rubbish. Not everyone is as dim witted as Malfoy. Though I suppose we could get Ron to eat one, too."

She groaned. Nagini had twisted her double snake dicks inside her tail, clearly not amused at losing her attention.

"Oh God," she said, feeling her whole body thrum. Something felt unsteady, her whole world turning inside out and upside down. 

"May I serve you, Mistress?" Voldemort asked.

Uncertain, Hermione looked at all of them.

Voldemort snapped his fingers. All the Riddles dropped to their knees. 

"Why are you here?" he questioned.

"To service our Mistress," they replied in unison.

"We are all yours, Hermione Jean Granger. Your magic made it so. There is no need to fear us. Your wish is our command."

Hermione swallowed. Perhaps this once she didn't want to dominate. Perhaps she wanted to be taken by all her pets."

"You're in charge," she said to Voldemort whose eyes lit up. "Please me or suffer the consequences."

"Yes, Mistress." He bowed his bald head. "What are you standing there, Thomas? Use that cock of yours for Salazar's sake. Don't you see your Mistress needs you?"

Thomas immediately went into action, grabbing Hermione's hips and pushing his cock slowly into her cunt. Nagini hissed.

"Now none of that, Nagini," Voldemort said. "Just work around him moving there. You're fast enough."

Tommy had come in from the other side, caressing Hermione's side. She grabbed a hold of his arm. Her other swayed in the air before clutching onto Voldemort's shoulder.

"Keeping yourself hovering in the air like this must be so tiring, Mistress," he said, wiping some sweat of her brow as the orgasm rippled through her, and her claws clenched into their shoulders drawing blood 

"It is," Hermione said through clenched teeth, trying to avoid burning the house down with the power rushing through her. "Restrain me before I destroy us all."

Voldemort twisted his wrist and a spreader bar appeared. He showed it to Hermione with a question on his face. She nodded frantically. He clasped it around her ankles. Ropes dropped from the ceiling and Nagini hissed.

"My apologies, I wasn't thinking," Voldemort said, replacing the ropes for simple chains around Hermione's wrists and hooking them to the ceiling. His wand flashed and Hermione felt her limbs being pulled apart and her body supported by an invisible force. Relieved she dropped her hovering charm.

"I wanna scream," she ordered Voldemort.

He smiled so wickedly, her stomach twisted.

"Ooooh, my Mistress, I will make sure you do. Many times. Am I allowed to take away your sight for enhanced pleasure?" 

He showed what he had in mind by holding up a silk green scarf. 

Hmmm... she knew all about the pleasures a loss of certain senses could give, and she wanted it, but that green just had to go. Instantly the scarf turned a deep burgundy with gold lining. Just a reminder who was truly in charge here. 

"You may."

He grinned. "You won't regret this." He draped the scarf around her eyes. "We will all take pleasure in servicing our Mistress. Won't we, boys?" 

He gestured to all his alternates behind him. Swiftly, they circled their Mistress ready for a night of pleasure she would always remember.

A creaking noise came from above her.

"Did I destroy the integrity of the ceiling?"

"Hmmm..." Voldemort pondered, stroking her hair back inch by inch. 

It was a comforting sensation, being taken care of. 

"Maybe?" he teased, putting her hair into a ponytail and suddenly yanking her head backwards roughly.

"Well?" she grumbled, annoyed. "Are you going to do somethi-mmmbbllmmm."

She gagged briefly on the length and girth of him.

"Careful now," Voldemort ordered. His voice came from somewhere near her waist now. 

_ Oh, not him then.  _

She giggled against the throbbing hard member in her mouth and lashed her tongue around him. Fire danced in her eyes. This Tom Riddle tasted like heaven, or should she say hell? Whatever, she didn't care. She was hungry. Her stomach rumbled so she took a bite. 

His screams sure were like heaven as she chomped on his member. Fingers clenched around her jaw, trying to make her stop. She enjoyed the dare and swallowed a large piece. 

"This is why we don't stick our cocks into a dragon's mouth without added protection, boys," Voldemort lectured in a bored tone. 

"St-stop h-her!" the Riddle with his cock being chomped on yelled.

"You should know you can't control the nature nor power of the dragon. You stuck it in there; you fix it or wait till she is done eating."

Hmmm....she definitely agreed with that. She wasn't full yet. 

Feeble, magical attempts at removing her made her question his power. Perhaps she had chosen wrongly?

"That won't work," Voldemort drawled lazily, as he drew his fingers across the side of her body.

_ Now this one had power. His touch was electrifying. She should eat him. _

"Help dammit."

"Oooh, I forgot," Voldemort said falsely. "I hadn't read the dragon ritual texts at your age yet. My apologies."

Alarmed, Hermione chewed faster.

"Now, now, dear, let's leave him something to work with." Voldemort whispered against her chest.

His magic swirled around her and her jaws moved against her will. Blood dripping to the floor from the corner of her mouth.

She growled and fire burned through the air.

"Does my Mistress require more?" Voldemort asked.

Hermione took a couple of deep breaths.

"Sorry, I didn't know what came over me."

"Do you wish more?"

"No, ewww. Put in a mouth guard so it won't happen again," she ordered.

"Are you sure? We can forgo blowjobs if you wish it."

"No, I want you in all of me."

"Your wish is my command."

She never experienced a sensory overload before today. All her Toms were everywhere at once, caressing her, filling her, sending shivers up and down her spine. Nagini's snake dicks pulsed and throbbed and the opening at her dragon's tail kept drawing them in, insatiable. Wanting,  _ needing _ , more.

More pleasure.

More. More. More. More.

A shift in her mind drew her attention.

"What are you doing?" she warningly asked in her mind.

"Legilimency when performed just right can bring the ultimate pleasure, my dear."

"Hmmm...?"

She arched her back as her arse stretched to accommodate another. Not seeing what was coming brought a level of anxiety that enhanced her arousal. She wanted more.

Several explicit swear words would have left her mouth had she been able to move it. His mind was inside her, he was inside her, everywhere. Stroking her brain cells. The direct contact made her thrash and writhe. Currents unlike she ever felt raced through her very being, through every cell. She was on fire. She was on a high so great she never wanted it to end.

Her muffled screams filled the air. Her magic met his, mingling, clashing - an infinite push and pull.

She never wanted to come down to earth ever again.

_ This was perfection. _

Yet she was still craving more. No matter how many times each piece of Tom's soul pleasured her, she was left with a dull ache within her chest. This was ridiculous. Hermione Granger did not have cravings. She took and she took. She did not show weakness.

She sure took that night. She kept her pets busy all night long. Her stamina was unmatched. She didn't know if it were the ritual and her chosen changes, if it were their powers matching, or if it were the Voldemorts' excellent attention, but she needed this so badly it hurt. A pleasant hurt. One that made you shiver and crave more and more and more.

She would rule supreme!

Her pets were so good, so obedient, she couldn't wait to turn the tables and reward them.

She came so hard she peed. One of her pets was lapping her core, making sure none spilled on the ground.

_ Such a good boy. _

Stretching out, Hermione purred in pleasure as she felt her joints pop after being restrained for so long. One of her pets pressed a sleepy kiss to her side whilst another wrapped an arm around her middle.

''Such good pets. Mistress is very pleased with you.''

Cuddling into the nearest body, Hermione settled in for a well-deserved nap.

Her eyes fluttered open. She was warm - too hot. The room was dark, but she was able to make out the outlines of multiple limbs that surrounded her. One particular Tom was pressing his erection right against her hips. She felt his hand trailing up and down her navel. She twisted her neck to look to the side, making one of the other Toms’s arm that was resting on her forehead to slip off. They were a mass of limbs all tangled together, so moving was a bit difficult. 

Her eyes matched Tom’s ruby red eyes. His slit nose. His bald head. His grey skin. The original Tom. The only Tom...who didn’t look like himself. 

“Hi,” she said with a hoarse voice. Her body felt like gelatin as if she’d fucked all night and taken multiple dicks at once- oh wait, she did. 

“Good morning, mistress,” he hissed quietly. 

She stood up, and more legs and arms from different Tom’s slipped off her body. Some of the Toms stirred from their sleep, but most remained passed out from the night of debauchery and post-orgasmic haze.

“Walk with me?” she asked, as she looked back at the original Tom. 

“As you command,” Tom said, and he slinked away from the mass of his own body and stood up. She followed suit, and they left the chamber. 

As they walked down the opulent hall of Malfoy Manor, untouched from the battle, she traced her index against the paper wallpaper. 

They exited the double doors and were now standing outside in the balcony. The sun barely peeked over the horizon, the clouds a shade of red and orange swirling together. 

She leaned against the railing and felt a swell of contentment settling inside her chest. She opened her eyes when she felt soft pads of his finger trailing down the notches of her spine, up and down. She looked over, then down, and saw that his erection never calmed down. 

Without a word, her hand tentatively reached out. She felt the satin heat of his prick and slowly pumped him, sometimes swiping her thumb over his weeping slit. A small moan escaped his throat, and he stepped closer to her. His hand splayed out on her lower back, and his other hand cradled her face. She looked up, and he leaned down and captured her lips.

It was quiet and gentle, unlike the massive orgy she had with the other Toms not even six hours ago. He stepped closer and dropped his hands around her waist. He lifted her until she sat right on the edge of the railing. He grabbed the base of his cock, and stroked between her moist slit causing small mews to erupt from her lips.

His lips trailed down the column of her neck until he lightly sucked her collarbone. 

“I never got to take you; there were too many of me that wanted the taste of your quim,” he murmured against her skin. 

“Then take me now,” she whispered. 

He responded with enthusiasm and slid inside of her in one thrust. 

“Ah,” she sighed, joining his low moan of appreciation. 

His thrust was slow, drawing out until the tip of his prick before thrusting back in, pressing his pubic bone against hers. She could feel his prick throb with need every pump, every stroke. 

She looked over his shoulders and saw Thomas by the door. He didn’t bother hiding his presence, and he presented his glorious body with his own hard-on. His nostril flared as his hand did quick work, trying to milk his seeds out. 

“Looks like we have an audience,” she murmured against the shell of Tom’s ear. “Shall we let him join.”

Tom growled in disapproval, and he grabbed the swell of her hips and squeezed. Lifting her up off the rails, she circled her arm around his shoulders.

“Mine, this is mine,” he declared as his thrusts increased in strength and speed. 

Her moans came out loud and unabashed. Thomas’ eyes narrowed as his hand pumped faster and faster. 

Only the slap of hips on hips and hand on prick was heard on top of the balcony. She felt the familiar rush of pressure build in her core. 

“Oh, Merlin, I’m coming,” she cried. 

Thomas roared as his hands kept pumping, and milky white cream shot out, splattering the floor. 

Tom’s pants came heavy and quick, seeking his release. “Come,” he commanded, “come on my cock, mistress.”

She screamed as white lights burst behind her eyes, and she squeezed and squeezed his stiff prick, urging him to feed her his seeds. He soon followed, and with a shout, he finally came inside of her. His thrust slowed but never stopped as he continued to pump, trying to squeeze to the very last drop of his seed from his bollocks.

They all panted, and Tom lowered her until she gained enough footing to stand on her. She felt the feeling of his seeds slide down her inner thighs. She could vanish it, but… she looked at Thomas, who now had his limp dick in his hands. 

She curled her index fingers, and he obliged. He walked towards her, and without her ordering him, too, he kneeled before her. 

She grabbed his hair and shoved his face against her cunt. “Lick me clean, pet.”

He complied, and she felt his tongues and lips pulled and sucked her labia. She sighed as a low thrum of pleasure simmered in her core. She looked up to see Tom with a sated look from his half-lidded eyes. 

“Tom,” she called out. 

He snapped out of his post-orgasmic haze, “Yes, Mistress?”

“The resistance is no more,” she stated.

His eyes lit up, and a cruel smirk took over his lips, “Thanks to you, Mistress.”

She gave him a light giggle as she stroked Thomas’s hair when he pierced her core with his tongue. She gave a sharp gasp and cooed good pet.

“I was thinking—” Another sharp breath was punched out of her. “—I don’t need anyone other than you, Tom.” Another moan tumbled out of her lips; Thomas was very talented with his tongue. 

Tom’s prick was stirring back to life.

“I got an idea after seeing what happened to Draco…” Her thighs clamped around Thomas’s face, and she pressed his face closer to her cunt. She bit her lower lip and started to grind her clit against his face. 

Tom’s breath came out labored, and he walked behind her. She felt a finger probe the tight ring of muscles. 

“Oh God,” she whined. 

“Keep going, Mistress,” Tom whispered as he dipped one finger in her arsehole. 

“You’re magic is-” Another gasp when he inserted his second finger. 

“Yes,” he hissed as he pumped his finger in and out of her. 

She couldn’t focus, with Thomas’s tongue and Tom’s fingers, her mind was drawing a blank. 

“You’re magic is strong,” she managed to say through clenched teeth. 

Suddenly, Tom’s fingers were replaced with his hardened prick. He pressed against her arsehole and pushed. She shrieked as his thick member slid in from the combined fluid of their coupling before. 

He pumped in and out. “Mistress, go on,” Tom said, and she could detect a trace of humor in his voice. 

“Thomas,” she said with a bark. Thomas lifted his head, his lips and cheek glistened from her arousal.

“Yes, mistress?” Thomas answered. 

“I need you  _ in _ my cunt now,” she ordered. 

He stood up with shaky legs and looked down at his limp prick. His cheeks pinkened as he quickly grabbed his flaccid dick, trying to pump the blood back in there. Hermione did not wait for anyone, and with a flick of her wrist, Thomas’s eyes went round. His prick turned pink, then red, then purple. 

He screamed in agony as his hand circled his swollen prick, trying to ease the pain. 

“M-Mistress,” he cried out, and his prick began to grow bigger and bigger. The head was growing into a shade of deep purple. His prick continued to grow, and she winced when she realized she might have butchered the enlargement charm. Well, she'd fix him up after her appetite was satisfied. 

“Tom, pick me up so Thomas can fuck my cunt,” she ordered. 

He followed her command without stopping his thrust in her arse. 

Thomas whimpered, his face now red and moist eyes. 

“Come, Thomas,” she panted, “don’t make your mistress wait.”

He whimpered as he lumbered closer to her and pressed his swollen, enlarged prick against her quim. 

She rolled her eyes as he hissed in pain when he forced the tip in. With a sigh, she cast another charm to numb the pain, and his shoulders instantly relaxed. It was like they forgot they have magic.

He shoved his enlarged prick in her quim, and she cried in ecstasy. She was so full! She could feel the thin membrane separating her arse, and her cunt shift as Tom and Thomas began to pump in and out of her. 

She leaned her head back to rest against Tom’s shoulder. 

This was perfection.

As they came, it was glorious.

A new dawn, a new beginning.

A wave of her wand and the garden morphed and grew. Endless fields of potatoes everywhere.

"We just gained a contract with McDonald's and all other chains to supply them with our  _ superior _ potatoes," she explained. "Even supermarkets will sell our specially discounted potatoes."

"With a special ingredient I'm sure," Tom said, smiling viciously at the thought of all those deaths. 

"Won't people stop eating them once others start dying?" Thomas asked, scratching the back of his neck. He didn't seem convinced this would work. 

"Ah, that's the beauty of these potatoes," Hermione said, summoning one to her hand and holding it out to him. 

Thomas looked at it, smelled it, examined it thoroughly before lowering it. 

"I don't smell the draught of instant death," he said puzzled. "But that's the only potion one can grow on this scale."

"Wrong," Tom and Hermione said in unison. 

She looked at him and gestured for him to explain. It had been inspired by his golden potato and Draco's foolishness after all. 

"There's no potion. It's the ingredients combined with our joined magic that activates it in combination with an individual's digestion process. Those active ingredients will cling to the bowel's lining and once everyone has consumed them and only then, our Mistress-"

"And you," Hermione added, placing a hand on his shoulder. "At that scale even I will need assistance."

"Thank you, Mistress. I'd be honored." He turned back to Thomas. "So -" 

"You will kill them all in one go," Thomas finished. His pupils flickered up. Hermione could see he was trying to find flaws. Perfect. She needed intelligent feedback. "Well," he paused, "I suppose that would work. The few fanatics who don't eat carbs, we can get to later."

Hermione laughed. "Did I forget to mention I have created a special carb-free potato as well?"

Thomas's eyebrows shot up and Tom kissed her neck, whispering, "Brilliant. I should have found you ages ago."

"We are together now."

''Speaking of all together, what do we want to do about Ron?''

Tom mused, as he knew that Hermione had somewhat of a relationship with the boy. 

He looked pointedly at her and she only quirked a brow in response. 

"I thought to just feed him the magical potatoes," she remarked plainly. 

"No," Tom said, he gave her a wide grin. "He was your beau, was he not?" 

She grimaced at the word  _ beau _ . "Yes,  _ was _ , being the key word."

"As one of the key members of that silly Order, and as someone who had a  _ history _ with you, I see it fitting to give him special  _ treatment _ ." Tom mused out loud as he tapped his chin with his index finger.

Suddenly there was an explosion in the potato fields

Hermione swirled, her dragon senses in full gear. She transfigured, rising into the air. She found the culprit easily. That stupid red hair of his stuck out a mile away. He tried to fight, but he was no match for her in her human form, let alone her dragon shape. His feeble hexes just bounced off her scales. 

She inhaled sharply and then let it out. His wand grew so hot in his hand he dropped it in pain, nursing his hand as his wand turned to ashes. Hermione inhaled, enjoying the look of terror on his stupid freckled face. Her fire breath drew a circle around him. She wanted to roast him. 

Not because he had scuppered her plans. 

Because he hadn't. The fool. 

No, this was actually the tiniest field she had erupted, but because this was another betrayal on his end. She couldn't even count them all on her claws's digits anymore. It was time to finish Ron Weasley.

It was time to finish him in the way it would hurt the most.

"Get  _ Harry _ !" she shouted to Voldemort who had controlled the explosion's blast radius to a tiny segment of the field.

She saw Ron's blue eyes lit up in hope at Harry's name.

Yes, this was going to be ultimately satisfactory.

Tommy - no -  _ Harry _ came to the small burnt potato patch in just his slacks. He had messy dark hair sticking at all sorts of angles. 

“Harry!” Ron screamed in elation. He stumbled on his feet, his bright blue eyes and dirt-smudged cheeks reminded her of blue skies just before it shrouded in dark heavy rain clouds.

_ Harry _ looked at Hermione in confusion, his eyes studying her impassive face. She wanted to know how much Harry was still in Tommy. 

Harry stood awkwardly, still unable to speak, and he continued to look at Hermione for some direction. 

“Harry?” Ron’s smile deflated, and his brows knitted in concern. “Wh-what did she do to you?” Ron asked quietly. 

Hermione felt the side of her face heating up from the rising sun. It was the start of a new day. 

“What would you like me to do, mistress?”  _ Harry _ finally asked. 

Hermione’s stomach coiled in both heat and cold when she saw the way Ron’s smile completely faltered. The way his brilliant blue eyes had now dulled into murky scum-filled water. The way his face drained of blood, and the soot and mud was more apparent. 

She cleared her throat, hoping to clear whatever was clogging up in her heart. It was drumming to an unfamiliar beat. But she knew, she knew, that it was all sentimentality. As much as Ron annoyed her and his betrayal during their hunt for the Horcruxes had hurt, she still had happy memories during their time at Hogwarts, the three of them. 

“ _ Harry _ ,” Hermione tested the word on her tongue, “Ron trespassed into our territory and destroyed something dear to me.” She waved her hand at the now-scorched Earth.

_ Harry’s _ eyes darkened, and a sinister smile bloomed. 

“I trust I can leave it to you to deal with this intruder?” Hermione asked. 

_ Harry _ nodded enthusiastically, and he brandished his wand at Ron. 

Ron’s eyes widened and stumbled a step back. His foot caught one of the burnt potatoes and collapsed back onto the dead, dead, dead soil. 

Hermione felt a cool arm slither around her shoulder. Warm breath caressed the shell of her ear. 

“Do I sense…” a voice hissed, “a hint of regret?” Tom’s voice drew her back from her memories and shattered the rose-tinted feelings of nostalgia. 

She took a sharp breath, “No." 

Tom’s arms fell from her shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her hips and drew her close to him. Her back pressed against his chest. He rested his chin on her shoulder. 

“It’s for the best,” he said simply, callously - a throwaway comment, really. But still, she clung to it and gave him a slight nod. 

_ Harry _ carelessly waved his wand, and Ron’s right fingers shot out its joint like rockets. 

A wail - Hermione recalled the time her father ran over a raccoon. The first initial impact didn’t end its life. They should’ve driven away, but they didn’t. Her dad, blessed his heart, quickly grabbed a shopping bag and put the raccoon in it. They then drove like mad to the nearest vet. The raccoon survived, but Hermione could still remember the cries and whimpers of the injured animal.

She looked back to Ron, who was cradling his right hand and rocked side to side on his back. 

_ Harry _ took a step closer. 

“W-Wait, Harry!” Ron cried, “We’re friends, aren’t we?” 

Harry's step stuttered to a stop.

Ron’s nose streamed of snot, and the mud streaked down his face from his unending tears. 

“Remember?” Ron’s voice shook, but he gathered his strength to sit up and rest on his knees. “Remember the time you and I-” he choked until his face turned from red to purple.

Hermione had her wand pointed out to Ron. She looked at  _ Harry _ , and his green eyes turned murky until it was finally the brilliant ruby red. 

“No, I don’t remember,” Tommy said coolly. He slashed his wand the moment Hermione let her magic go. 

Ron’s body convulsed and he screamed and screamed and screamed. His voice echoed through the early morning, and Hermione idly thought that he would wake up the rest of the residence. 

Ron’s eyes rolled back, and he clawed his face with his hands. The stubs from his once long fingers only brought streaks of blood down his face and matched his flaming red hair. His skin turned red and it looked like tiny needles were pricking him. The blood eventually seeped out from his pores until it soaked through his clothes.

Ron’s body trembled as he slowly bled out. His voice squeaking as his throat could no longer handle the gut-wrenching screams. His chest concaved, and his right hand trembled as he reached out to the clear blue sky. 

Hermione stepped away from Tom’s grasp, and she waved her Elder Wand. 

“Let your blood nurture the birth of the new era, Ron,” Hermione said quietly. 

Dark, sinister magic spilled out from Ron’s still body. Black smoke curled and seeped into the dead soil. Hermione’s nose scrunched up as she smelled something fetid that usually accompanied dark magic. 

The soil remained black from the initial explosion, but green saplings burst through the soil’s channel. Where Ron’s body laid, red saplings sluggishly oozed out from the earth. 

_ That was interesting _ , Hermione thought as she raised a brow from the unusual colour of the potato saplings near the carcass. 

The morning birds chirped to signify the new day. She squinted her eyes as she looked up to the bright sun illuminating the rest of her potato patch.

All opposition was crushed - even if they weren't, they soon would be. The world was hers. Soon, her precious potatoes would be shipped off to every corner of the planet and sold through McDonald's; the plague that was humanity would be wiped from Earth; and only she and her Toms would be left.

All was, indeed, well.

* * *

**Epilogue - 7 Years Later:**

Hermione groaned loudly as she felt Thomas spend himself inside her while Tommy rubbed her stomach in careful circles next to her, suckling quietly at her swollen nipples, moaning at the milk that he expressed eagerly.

With a final huff, Thomas shifted to lay next to her as Voldemort lazily pumped his own swollen cock above her.

"Mistress, you look so magnificent with the seed of our children in you, small Homo-Dragons ready to enter the world and rule alongside us until the sun stops burning with your fire."

"Mmmm, yes, we must rebuild and now that we wiped out everyone who would oppose us - all the insipid humans stupid enough to eat poisoned potatoes - it's time to repopulate the earth with beings who understand Gaia."

"Now, shut your mouth,  _ darling _ , and shove your perfect cock in my awaiting walls until you make me shriek."

"My pleasure, mistress." However, he paused causing Hermione's brow to rise at the blatant disregard of her words. "It seems Tommy wants to join us."

Hermione turned her head down as she ran her fingers through Tommy's hair. "I am a merciful mistress and you have been laving my nipples so perfectly. You can join us, Tommy. Is your cock ready for my arse, pet? Help me lay on my side, and be ready to do all the work."

With nary a command, Hermione was impaled by two of her Toms, enjoying the attention from her powerful men. Certain she would never truly tire from the attention they wrought on her every crevice.

Now that she had removed all the horrid humans from this planet, she had united the creatures that were shunned, cast aside, underestimated, and unwanted. She continued to show them the right ways to cultivate what the small minded humans left behind to build better homes and communities.

With her Toms, her legacy growing within her womb, and her league of nightmare creatures, Hermione, the Lady of the Dark, ruled for centuries.

**FIN**


End file.
